Atonement, Part 3 of the Deliverance Trilogy
by shepsgirl72
Summary: Sheppard and team find themselves stranded on a planet at the outskirts of the galaxy with an energy anomaly, a gate that refuses to dial out, and a Medulsan who means to have her pound of flesh. Third story in Deliverance Trilogy. Shep Whump!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc, no infringement of any rights is intended. I'm just playing with the characters, roughing them up a bit, but I promise to dust them off and hand them back still reasonably intact when I've finished with them.

**Spoilers:** Possible spoilers for various episodes from Season 1 through to 'Outcast' in Season 4. The background story for Sheppard contained in this fic is purely my surmising, and not canon in any way shape or form.

**Warnings:** Scenes of violence and torture and mature themes not suitable for young readers.

Many thanks to **Sterenyk Strey** for reading this through for me, tweaking my Britishisms into shape, pointing out my typos, and encouraging me to really go for it in places where I was holding back a little. You're a bad influence, woman - but a great beta! ;D All remaining mistakes are mine - they always were and I put my hands up...it's a fair cop!

**Summary: **

**_The beginning of atonement is the sense of its necessity. ~ Lord Byron_**

Sheppard and team find themselves stranded on a planet at the outskirts of the Pegasus Galaxy with a dangerous energy anomaly, a gate that refuses to dial out, and a Medulsan who means to have her pound of flesh. Shep Whump of both the physical and emotional kind – of course!

This is the third story in the Deliverance Trilogy. Stories to be read in this order: Deliverance/Repression/Atonement

The story is complete aside from final edits and will be posted regularly.

**Atonement **

**Chapter 1 **

It soon became clear that the planet beneath them was much like many of the other 'M' class planets they'd visited when Sheppard took the jumper in low to get a better look – lush forests, expanses of clear oceans, some with pretty impressive breakers, and vast stretches of uninhabited land as far as the eye could see. Nowhere in the Pegasus Galaxy suffered from the population overcrowding Earth did. A little luxury courtesy of the Wraith, he guessed. He'd imagined he would tire of views like this eventually, but he hadn't. Not in all the years he'd been posted out there now. It seemed some things were breathtaking no matter how often you saw them.

If he was honest, Sheppard hadn't wanted to come out so far from Atlantis. Okay, so they were only ever a Stargate jump away, but this little planet lay pretty much on the outskirts of the galaxy, and they had never ventured so far from home before. Things like that wouldn't normally have bothered him, but lately, the thought of something going wrong and leaving them far from help played endlessly on his mind. Still, Rodney had told him the planet purported to house an Ancient research facility, though the partially corrupted data file hadn't said exactly what was being researched there, and where there was a research facility, there was the chance of a ZPM. That was always worth a trip.

He glanced across at Teyla sitting in the co-pilot seat beside him, who gazed with admiration at the beautiful scenery rushing by beneath them, then looked over to give him a brilliant smile he knew was meant as thanks. She hadn't been out with them on a mission now for weeks, and she had practically begged to join them on this one because it was straightforward reconnaissance and so classed as low risk. Although at first he'd refused, her persistence had worn him down. Apparently, there was only so much of Atlantis' splendour she could endure when getting no break from it. So he'd agreed, but with some clear ground rules. She was only allowed to leave the jumper if he could park it within a short distance of whatever it was Rodney was hunting for, and she had to force on a tac-vest and carry a P-90 no matter how tight it was over her growing bump.

She'd agreed to his terms, turning up in an oversized vest that almost slipped from her shoulders, but fitted snugly around her stomach. Her uniform, however, had been out of the question. So, she wore it over some tasteful maternity wear she'd picked up while assisting in trade talks with some of their new neighbours, the soft trousers tucked into her normal military footwear. Since moving the city, they had a whole host of new planets to trade with, and these particular people had been particularly taken with carrots.

Despite the restrictions placed upon her, Teyla looked as if she was thoroughly enjoying the flight, and he guessed that made all his worrying worthwhile.

All the same, he wasn't sorry that their preliminary scans of the planet's surface had revealed very little – and certainly nothing that pleased McKay – because that meant they'd soon be out of there and back to familiar territory. The scientist hissed, tutted and mumbled through various different scans, before thudding back against his seat and declaring, 'Well, yet another beautiful planet on which to settle down and raise a family, but one that is of absolutely no use in furthering our fight against the Wraith.'

'Simmer down, Rodney,' Sheppard drawled 'We're explorers; this is what we do. Sometimes there's nothing to find, that's all.' He instinctively operated the various controls required to change the direction and altitude they were cruising at. 'Besides, we have one final area to sweep, so let's not give up hope just yet.'

'It's just like the last five planets we've checked. The only signs of any development are primitive at best. The most interesting thing about this planet is its axial tilt. The relatively high level of obliquity means they'll experience far more extreme seasons. Hence the number of seemingly abandoned settlements we've seen. The locals probably have to migrate when the conditions change in one area and another becomes more favourable.'

'Fascinating,' Sheppard mumbled, stifling a yawn.

'So the people who live here are nomadic?' Teyla asked, her interest seemingly piqued.

'Only in the broadest sense of the word. I expect they spend months in one place before needing to move again. I can't say how long for sure without proper monitoring, but one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is these people can't help us, so we might as well head back to the 'gate – hello!'

'What is it, Rodney?' Teyla asked, all of them reacting to the telltale tone of his exclamation.

'I'm not sure. I saw something...and then it was gone.'

'What do you mean "gone"?' Sheppard asked, peering back over his shoulder at him.

Rodney scrolled through the last data collected. 'It was an incredible power spike, accompanied by a lower-level surge located just a few miles from here...but it was gone in an instant.'

'Where was the bigger spike?' Sheppard asked.

'Approximately twenty miles north east of our position.'

'Are we talking ZPM big?'

'Yes...maybe bigger for a moment.'

'Might be worth checking out,' Sheppard suggested, although feeling a little pissed that they wouldn't be heading back home after all.

'Yes...yes it might...Oh, wait a minute. Now that's just not possible...'

Sheppard's stomach sank. In his experience, when Rodney started saying things like, "That's not possible" or "That can't be right", things pretty quickly went south.

'What is it?' he demanded, his words carrying a far more urgent stress than Teyla's earlier version of the question.

'I just picked up exactly the same type of spike only five miles to our west,' Rodney reported.

'So what's causing it?'

He could almost hear Rodney's eye-roll along with his petulant sigh. 'I don't know. I would have thought the "that's not possible" line was a give-away.'

'How can it jump around like that?' Ronon added, even his normal calm baritone carrying a slight nervous edge.

'Again I say I don't know...yet. Gimme a few minutes.'

A blinding flash caught Sheppard's attention, to their left and not far away. It hung in the air at what he estimated was the same altitude they were maintaining, causing him to shield his eyes while steering the jumper away from it.

'What the hell was that?' he yelled.

'Same thing!' Rodney called to him, his voice now cracking with panic. 'That one was only a little over one click away.'

'Well, that thing looks like it's making a b-line for us, so I say we abort this mission, head back to the gate and get the hell outta here before it comes any closer,' Sheppard barked. 'Teyla, get ready to dial Atlantis when we're in range.'

Teyla reached out to begin programming Atlantis' address into the DHD, but was almost thrown from her seat by a jolt that shook the jumper and sent it careening to the left.

'What just happened?' Rodney shrieked, gripping his seat.

Sheppard called up a diagnostic, hardly able to believe what it told him. 'We've lost our right engine pod.'

'Okay. Lemme see if I can fix it,' McKay instantly responded, trying to lever himself up and out of his chair.

'Stay put, McKay. There's nothing to fix. When I said we lost an engine pod, I meant it!'

He shot a look back, seeing the utter disbelief register on the astrophysicist's face. 'Oh, crap!'

'Okay, people, hang on to your seats – we're going in,' Sheppard yelled, steering for something... anything...that might cushion the fall.

From the corner of his eye he saw Teyla brace herself against the control panel, and he told himself he had to get this right. She was carrying an unborn child; if he didn't, she could lose it. Dammit! Why had he agreed to let her come? She'd stayed safely on Atlantis for weeks now, why had she picked today of all days to ask to join them?

Forcing himself to focus on their current dilemma, Sheppard headed for a patch of woodland, which he calculated they could just about make at their current velocity and rate of decent. Hopefully, skimming the trees first would lessen the impact with the ground.

'Okay, here we go,' he warned as the branches loomed up in front of them. A brief whimper from Rodney was the last thing he heard before the jerk of the collision threw him forward into the flight controls and everything went black.

*****

'John...John...can you hear me?'

Teyla's voice fought its way through the haze and aching to bring him reluctantly back to his senses. Sheppard strained open his eyes to see her pretty and reasonably unscathed face smiling back at him.

'He is awake,' she said, turning to someone behind her.

'About time,' McKay grunted. 'At least now we can get out of here before the whole thing falls to the ground.'

That helped to rouse him. Sheppard snapped his head up, only then realising the aching wasn't confined to his head alone, but to his neck vertebrae, too. 'Wha' d'ya mean?' he slurred, suddenly realising he could only see branches out of the windshield.'

'We seem to be caught up in the branches of one of the larger trees in this stretch of woodland,' Teyla explained. 'But our position is precarious, and has already shifted twice. We should get out as soon as possible.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Sheppard agreed, ignoring the sensation of sticky heat trickling down the side of his face. 'Ladies first.'

Teyla didn't argue, a sure sign that she fully understood the danger of their situation. As she edged to the back of the jumper and lowered the hatch, Sheppard and Ronon did their best to maintain the balance for her. 'You sure you can manage that okay?' Sheppard called to her, feeling off kilter himself now, even if the ship was holding steady.

'I have climbed many trees in my time, Colonel. This will be no different,' she assured him, slipping her kit onto her back.

'Except you weren't five months pregnant last time,' Rodney pointed out, shrinking under the pressure of three withering glares.

Teyla, disappeared out of the back of the craft, radioing up to them once she was clear of the possible landing site should it fall. Rodney was next, though he was quite vocally against the whole process. Apparently, not only were enclosed spaces not Rodney's thing, but neither were heights – nor trees, for that matter.

Sheppard knew it would be next to impossible to persuade Ronon to leave before him, and he was right, so took advantage of the Satedan's extra weight to throw some emergency kit out of the back of the craft before taking his own pack and climbing out slowly while Ronon adjusted his position to maintain the equilibrium.

Once he was down, Sheppard wasn't in the least bit surprised to hear a primal scream as Ronon launched himself from the craft and threw himself into the waiting branches of a neighbouring tree. Seconds later, the jumper took a nosedive, crumpling on contact with the ground. Although he'd known the craft was next to useless now, it still stung to see it take that final plunge.

With agility defying his size, Ronon swiftly joined them on the ground, a boyish grin almost splitting his face in two. 'Well, there you go, McKay. You got your wish. You found somethin'.'

'This wasn't quite what I meant,' he moaned, looking decidedly haunted.

'That'll teach you to be careful what you wish for,' Sheppard quipped, wincing as a pain like a hot poker stabbed into his brain just behind what he could now feel was a small but reasonably deep gash above his right eyebrow. Just what he needed. They had to be at least eight clicks from the gate, and now he was going to have to make that trip with a crushing headache at best, if not a brewing concussion.

'Everyone okay?' he asked, now they had the time to examine themselves. 'Teyla?'

'I am well enough,' she assured him, tying back some strands of hair that had worked loose from her partial up-do.

'And the baby?'

'The baby is fine,' she smile, dropping her hands to her stomach now her hair was secured. 'Although the excitement certainly seems to have woken him.'

'That's good. Everyone else?'

'I think I bruised my knee...' Rodney muttered, trying to roll up his trouser leg to check.

Sheppard ignored him, looking at Ronon, who, though covered in minor scratches from his skirmish with the tree, seemed otherwise unharmed.

'What about you?' the Satedan asked. 'That looks painful.'

'I'll be fine,' Sheppard told him, but even as he said it, another pain bolted through his skull making him suck in a sharp breath.

'I think we should attend to your injury. I have Steri-strips in my medical pack,' Teyla told him firmly, laying her hand on his shoulder and making him sit down.

So he let her do her thing, mothering him and cleaning up his cut until it was ready to pull back together with a few sterile strips. Then, she handed him a couple of Tylenol and would not take refusal as an answer.

'We have plenty more. There is no point in you struggling on pain if we can make you more comfortable.'

'I guess not,' he agreed, rubbing his sore neck. 'Okay, let's head back to the 'gate and get the hell outta here.'

Somewhere in the distance they heard a crack, and a flash lightened the sky for a few seconds before fading again.

It didn't take a genius to work out that was the same anomaly that had buzzed them and wiped out the engine pod, and from a quick glance round at the faces of his team he knew they realised that, too.

Without another word, they set off in the direction of the 'gate at a healthy pace.

*****

After almost an hour of walking, and with his headache still nagging despite the medication, Sheppard stumbled and fell, prompting a collective cry of concern from his colleagues.

'I'm good,' he insisted, grasping Ronon's forearm and allowing his friend to haul him back to his feet. 'I tripped, that's all.'

'Maybe we should rest,' Teyla suggested, her cheeks flushed and her forehead damp with perspiration. 'I am feeling rather tired myself.'

'Oh, well, if you and junior need a break...' He knew she was only giving him the excuse he needed to take a time out, but he accepted the offered opportunity with good grace regardless.

The air was heavy with moisture, the clouds now gathering overhead grey and foreboding. It was only a matter of time before rain set in, and they still had two miles to walk at least. He dabbed at his brow, finding only a slight hint of blood on his fingertips as he drew them back. At least it was congealing now, even if he was building up to the mother of all headaches again.

'I'm picking up some signs of development not too far from here,' Rodney reported from his perch on a nearby rock, knees bent up almost under his chin with his tablet resting on top of them. 'Just about where that smaller power spike occurred.'

'I thought we'd decided we were heading back,' Sheppard called over to him, hoping he would drop the subject.

'Well, these structures are pretty much on route – only a half a mile out of our way. They might be worth a quick look.'

Though all he wanted to do was get back to Atlantis, take a hot shower and get some rest, Sheppard figured Rodney might be right. At least if they found something useful there the mission wouldn't have been a total bust.

So, once his legs felt like they could take the strain again, they followed McKay toward the buildings he'd picked up on his scan.

The extra legwork seemed all the more promising when the structures turned out to be of obvious Ancient design. The place was half-ruined and overgrown by some kind of ivy type plant and creeping weeds, but there were still some pretty interesting looking devices in there, all lying dormant.

Sheppard strolled around them, keeping his gun in his hands as he let his eyes roam over the various panels and screens. Since losing the jumper, he'd had an almost irrepressible desire to get back to Atlantis and safety, but he also knew that wasn't entirely down to the powerful anomaly that had disintegrated their engine pod. He'd been feeling this way for weeks now, and there was only one person to blame...

'_Colonel, can I speak with you in my office, please?'_

_The request seemed simple enough, depersonalised somehow by the slightly tinny sound of the voice filtering through his earpiece, but something in Sam's tone told Sheppard this wasn't going to be one of those average everyday chats. He agreed and made his way there, finding Sam sitting unnaturally upright behind her desk and looking grave. If he hadn't known better, he'd have assumed she was being held at gunpoint._

'_Sit down, John,' she said, watching him enter the room and take up a chair in front of her._

_She flashed him a smile, but it was tight and over very quickly and lacked the natural warmth it normally exuded. Her legs were crossed and he couldn't help but notice the way she tapped her foot, rapid and erratic; something was obviously troubling her._

'_So, what's this about?' he asked, keen to move things along. He was on a tight schedule today; he and his team were heading out to M6R 377 to check out an Ancient structure spotted by a MALP when they sent it through and he'd been on the way to the armoury when Carter had contacted him._

'_We've received a communication from Medulsa –'_

_For a moment, Sheppard's brain simply phased out. He knew the news was going to be bad because Sam wore the sort of expression that said she felt sorry for him and her hands lay clasped on the desk, knuckles white with tension. This was bad, definitely bad. He ordered his grey-matter to pull itself together and focus on her words, just as she was finishing up something that sounded every bit as terrible as he'd feared._

'_...so, with the head start, there was no hope of stopping her before she got to the 'gate. I'm sending a team down to gather the last fifty gate addresses dialled, but –'_

'—_but she could be anywhere by now,' he finished for her._

_Sam nodded. 'Pretty much.'_

'_Was anyone hurt?'_

_She didn't even have to say yes – the pained way her mouth twisted at the question, and the deep swallow told him someone had. He sank into his seat, letting his head fall back as he stared up at the ceiling even before she told him who._

'_She knocked a young man senseless when he opened her cell door to leave her some food and water. We don't know yet whether there will be any lasting damage. Dr Keller has him in the infirmary under observation; we'll know more once he regains consciousness.'_

_He nodded, his lips pressed hard together to hold back any kind of inappropriately emotional response. 'I have to get going now, but I'll get an update on his condition as soon as I get back.'_

'_Actually, I was thinking maybe you should sit this mission out. Major Lorne is ready and willing to head up the team today, and I really would like to discuss this problem further with you. You're pretty much our resident expert on Sarayah since Kate died. She's refused to speak with Dr Weissman at all since he got here. She apparently has a problem with the fact he's a man.'_

_He didn't want to agree to her request, but had the distinct impression she was holding something back. Why did everyone do that to him where Sarayah was concerned? Stupid question; they held back because he was still holding back. 'Okay...as long as you tell me the whole story this time.'_

_She flashed that same strained smile, tapping her earpiece and giving Lorne the go-ahead to take up Sheppard's role on the mission._

'Sheppard...Sheppard! Where is your head at? I said I need you over here.'

Rodney's acerbic demand pulled the colonel back from the uncomfortable memory that had played over in his mind more times that he cared to recall now. He dragged his eyes away from the window he'd stopped in front of while staring sightlessly out across the landscape.

'What is it, McKay?'

'I said I want you to come over here and try to activate these things. They've been powered down for a long time. Perhaps they just need someone to initialise them.'

'Well, you have the gene...'

'Yes, and I've tried already. But you have a natural representation...on occasions the synthetic gene isn't enough.'

'You know, sometimes I get the feeling you only want me for my body,' he smirked, waving a hand over numerous serious looking devices that mockingly remained inert.

'Oh, ha ha. So that's me and most of the female population of the Pegasus Galaxy...oh...present company excepted, of course.'

Teyla just rolled her eyes, strolling away and shaking her head.

Sheppard chose to cover his embarrassment with more bravado. 'That's not my fault, Rodney. I guess I just have a natural and irresistible charm.'

'Is that right?' Rodney tried a few more things, then dropped his hands to his sides with an exasperated sigh. 'Well, I hope you don't find you haven't lost your touch with women recently, because you've certainly lost it with Ancient tech. These systems are useless. I'm getting minimal power readings – nothing strong enough to power them up.'

'And that's not my fault either,' Sheppard snapped, losing his cool with Rodney's choice of material now. 'This stuff's obviously out of juice. What would you like me to do, pull a ZPM out of my ass?'

'That would be helpful if you could manage it, yes,' Rodney fired back. 'Failing that, a naquadah generator might do.'

Sheppard simply glared back at him. This was an argument that had been on the cards for weeks, and he had no idea why Rodney was insistent on pursuing it. 'What's your problem, McKay? It's not my fault the jumper crashed, or that this stuff doesn't work, so why are you biting my head off?'

'Well, maybe I'm just tired of all the pussy footing around we have to do with you lately. Maybe I just wish you'd admit you're stressed and that's why you're cranky with me.'

'I'm not stressed, and I'm not cranky. That's your job,' Sheppard grunted, fixing Rodney with his best "drop it now" stare.

'You've been like this for the past three months since that woman got free –'

'Rodney!' Teyla hissed in warning, throwing him a death glare.

Rodney just folded his arms over his chest and stood firm. 'Oh, that's right, I forgot. We're not supposed to talk about her in front of Sheppard, are we?'

Teyla and Ronon exchanged an awkward look, as if they knew the trouble that comment would cause.

Sheppard looked around at them all, feeling hurt. 'You've been talking about this...behind my back?'

'Only because we were concerned about you. Rodney is right, you have seemed a little distracted since the news of Sarayah's escape,' Teyla tried to reason with him.

Sheppard shifted his gaze from her to Ronon, then to Rodney, neither of the latter two able to maintain eye contact beyond the briefest of moments. 'I didn't realise this was such a problem for you guys,' he spat, annoying even himself with the venom in his words

'That is not what we meant, John,' Teyla said, reaching out to rest her hand on his forearm.

He shifted just enough to break the contact. 'Really? So what _do_ you mean?' he demanded, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at her. So now he was picking on Teyla, taking his insecurities out on her. _Nice one, John. Way to alienate your friends._

'We approached Dr Weissman for advice on what to do once we learned of what Sarayah had done while escaping. He told us we shouldn't speak to you about it...that you would talk to us when you were ready –'

'A theory I completely disagreed with, I'd like to add. Things like this are better out in the open...clear the air and all that,' Rodney rambled, his smug smile fading as Sheppard turned his icy gaze on him.

'And that's why you're an astrophysicist and not a psychologist,' the colonel sneered, again angering himself with his churlishness. The thing that pained him most was that they were right; he had been distracted since the news from Medulsa, and he'd known the nightmares and the paranoia were getting out of hand, but he'd been too stubborn to seek help, convincing himself he had it all in hand.

'We can't do anything here. I say we head back to the 'gate and report what we've found to Carter,' Ronon suggested, playing the role of peacemaker for once.

If Ronon felt the need to diffuse the banter between him and McKay, Sheppard knew things had sunk to an all time low. The Satedan pretty much lived for it.

'I second that,' he breathed, pushing past McKay and heading for the fractured doorway back to the outside world.

They covered the remainder of the ground between the ruined Ancient outpost and the Stargate in almost complete silence, other than the occasional gripe from McKay about ill-fitting boots. For once, everyone let it slide.

Rain set in, soaking them through to their skins and adding to the air of gloom, an atmosphere Sheppard knew he'd created and now felt bad about. But no matter how much he told himself his team's interference was coming from a good place, a place of concern, he resented the fact they had lost faith in him to some degree. He had their backs, he always would have; he wasn't so distracted he couldn't still protect them. And he felt like he needed to protect them, now more than ever. It was his fault Sarayah was out there somewhere, probably plotting some way of getting back at him, because he could have killed her out there in the desert plains of Karafus, and he hadn't. That had been a mistake, a big one, and one he now bitterly regretted. Sometimes, compassion was his worst enemy. It either made him pull back from doing the things that needed to be done, or hounded him relentlessly if he saw them through.

At the 'gate, Rodney began to dial without waiting for Sheppard's instruction, and the colonel scoured the surrounding land, ascertaining there was no nearby threat. All was clear, and he heard Rodney angrily slam his hand down on the centre of the DHD to activate the wormhole home.

A flash in the distance caught the colonel's eye, but then a whine reminiscent of a dying dog caused him to snap his head round, the lack of an event horizon setting his heart running a little faster. 'McKay?'

'Must've mis-dialled,' he murmured, but the way his forehead had puckered suggested Rodney knew he hadn't and was worried.

Sheppard watched him this time as he methodically and firmly struck each symbol, then finally pressed in the centre point, sending the address to the 'gate. Another baleful complaint grumbled out from the 'gate's failing connections.

In the distance, the light still flickered as if waiting to see what would happen. Its presence only emphasised the failure of the wormhole, increasing the urgency of their desire to make it work.

Without a word, McKay tried it again, slapping down hard on each key with increasingly jerky movements, as if he thought additional speed and force might be the key to the problem. The repeat of the disheartening groan clarified that wasn't the case at all. Thankfully, the anomaly faded without causing them any further problems.

Sheppard stared at Rodney and silently willed him to come up with something obvious, something he could do to fix things. The scientist prised off the panel covering the control crystals, muttering to himself as he worked, attaching his tablet to the device to run a diagnostic. The noises he made as he did so were no more promising than those that had issued from the 'gate itself.

Eventually, Rodney looked up, eyes huge and face pale. 'Er...this may be a problem.'

And somehow, that just didn't surprise Sheppard at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks to everyone who has left a review and put this story on alert. Feedback is fuel to keep me on track with my editing and is very much appreciated! :D**

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**Chapter 2 **

An hour and a half later, the team was back at the jumper to collect whatever they thought might help with their dilemma.

'So what do we need?' Sheppard asked, hands on hips as he looked sadly at his once beautiful craft. He felt like a kid who had just crashed his dad's car.

'Anything we can remove easily,' Rodney told him. 'Circuit boards, crystals...anything we can carry back with us.'

'Okay.' Sheppard looked back at him, waiting for him to sweep into action and show them what to do.

Rodney approached the back of the jumper, spotting the intermittent sparking within the cockpit and pulling back. 'Er, well, perhaps this kind of brawn is best left to men such as yourself and Ronon. I'll supervise, shall I?'

Sheppard pouted and considered ordering him in, then decided it was probably best to keep McKay out of harm's way since he was effectively their ticket out of there. 'All right. We'll do it, but no grouching if something gets broken.'

'Well, just try not to break anything important and then I won't have to grouch,' he heard him call after them as they pushed into the crumpled craft and began to force off panels and detach them as carefully as time and the situation would allow. Much as Sheppard knew this was probably essential, and that the jumper was useless to them anyway, he still felt bad about cannibalising it. After prising out circuit boards, and pulling out crystals, the flashing of electrics shorting doing little to help with his lingering migraine, he and Ronon picked their way back out carrying those and as many supplies as they had thought useful and reasonable to transport.

Once they had split the load as evenly as they could, with less for Teyla since she had her own inbuilt excess baggage, they set off on the trek back.

An hour in, Sheppard felt like someone was trying to lobotomise him without the benefit of anaesthetic. He rubbed where the worst of the pain was, only succeeding in causing his wound to bleed a little again.

'I am feeling quite tired. Perhaps we could take another rest?' Teyla asked, and he knew without even looking at her that the request was made on his behalf. He didn't have the energy to argue.

'Okay. Let's take ten,' he ordered, dropping his pack and the tent he was carrying to the sodden ground, and sitting on the later in the hopes of keeping his backside mud free. He pulled out his canteen and slugged back some water, checking his watch to see when he could take some more meds. Not quite time yet, but boy was he ready for them.

'I've been thinking,' Ronon suddenly piped up, which instantly got his attention. Unlike McKay Ronon rarely voiced his thoughts, but it was usually worth listening when he did.

'McKay and I could head back to the gate to give Teyla extra time to rest. That way, she doesn't have to cover the extra ground if we need to go back to the jumper for more stuff.'

'There _is _no more useful stuff –'

Ronon's lethal glare silenced McKay instantly.

Splitting up wasn't his favourite idea, but Sheppard suspected he would be little to no help to McKay anyway since he was now having trouble bringing his own boots into focus. Turning to Teyla, watching her rubbing her stomach as if the walking had been a strain on her, he decided to humour them. 'All right, rest up now, then Teyla and I will hang back here while you head back to the gate. If you think it's going to take a while to fix, let us know and we'll set up camp for the night.'

'Great! Nothing better than a night under canvas in the rain,' McKay snorted.

'Well, you don't have to use the tent,' Sheppard said, rather too pointedly. He scolded himself for snapping again, but McKay seemed to be hitting just the right pitch to set his head buzzing.

Looking a might perturbed, Rodney shrugged non-committally. 'Well, under the circumstances I suppose the tent is the better option.'

After a few more minutes, Ronon got to his feet and slapped a meaty hand down on McKay's shoulder to signal it was time for them to go. They left the tents Ronon hand been carrying, but took their packs and the salvaged equipment and set off, following the trail they'd left in the soft earth earlier.

Sheppard shook his head as he watched them leave, spotting the slump in McKay's shoulders. Either he was tired or upset...or quite possibly both. He wished he'd apologised. What if that was the last time he ever saw – Sheppard checked himself, determined not to finish that thought. Lately, he'd found himself dwelling on the fear of losing his team. He supposed it was a natural reaction to losing so many friends and colleagues in a relatively short time. The truth was it wasn't really Rodney who had him riled, although the scientist still had an uncanny knack for pushing his buttons without even trying after their three and a half years working together. No, he was mad at himself for being so distracted that they'd all noticed. John Sheppard did not get distracted; that wasn't him. So why the hell couldn't he snap out of it and keep his mind on the job? When he started trying to rationalise it in his own mind, he mentally informed himself that it had been a rhetorical question, and his sorry excuses wouldn't wash. He knew exactly why it was impossible to stay focused. It was all down to that damned woman – again.

'Is everything all right, John?'

Teyla's gentle question snapped him back to the here and now, making him realise his concentration had drifted yet again.

'Yes – why?' That had been unnecessarily curt, but he was getting tired of being asked that lately. Even Rodney's bull-headedness beat sympathy. Hands down; no competition. Still, he apologised, earning yet more sympathy in the form of her smile.

It was getting late he judged by the fading light. Perhaps a couple more hours of daylight left at best. Sheppard allowed himself a moment to admire the vista from their elevated position. To their right was a clutch of mountains stabbing their sharp pinnacles up into the darkening sky. And between their resting place and those mighty mounts was a great expanse of landscape, some arable, some natural, and numerous wooded areas.

'This is a beautiful world,' Teyla sighed, breathing in the clean, damp air. 'But one not any of us have any real knowledge of. Since we moved the city and my people were taken, I find myself feeling lost whenever we step through the gate. Nothing feels familiar anymore. Perhaps tomorrow we should venture into the inhabited settlement we saw when we arrived and ask the locals if they know how to power up the Stargate.'

'Yeah, you might be right. I'll break it to McKay later. You know how much he hates speaking to...less advanced races.'

'Indeed. It would be quite a blow to his ego should the solution come from someone less...qualified than him.'

'Well, if he can't fix it himself, we have to get help from somewhere, and I don't think he'll be too happy if Colonel Carter or Zelenka outsmart him, either.'

She smiled, nodding sagely. 'I suspect you are right.'

Despite the rain, the temperature remained high, making Sheppard glad for the cooling downpour. Had he been forced to walk as much as he had in baking heat without its refreshing touch, he doubted he would have made it this far. The wind was thankfully almost non-existent, so the tents would be more than ample protection against the elements. But it wasn't the elements that had him worried; it was the anomaly that had taken out the engine pod. A tent wouldn't prove much defence against that if it chose to reappear. He cursed himself for once again dwelling on the worst-case scenario. This really wasn't him; he'd always been an optimist, but now...now he felt like he was constantly waiting for something dreadful to happen – for one dreadful thing in particular...

'You know, Rodney was just trying to help earlier – when he talked about Sarayah,' Teyla said softly, and once again he had to admit his mind had wandered from his current situation.

He took a deep breath. Did he really want to get into this? He supposed of all the people he could talk to, Teyla was one of the best he could hope for. 'I know,' he conceded, 'he just...well...he's not so good at the talking thing himself, so –'

'You feel he is being hypocritical?'

'Well...yeah...kinda...'

'Rodney is not good with things he cannot quantify.'

'Tell me about it.'

They sat in silence, the gloom gradually creeping in on them. Sheppard tried not to think about the fact two of his team were out of sight with night approaching. They would be fine; Ronon was a capable warrior, and Rodney...well, Rodney could run like his ass was on fire when necessary.

'I am sure Major Lorne and his team will eventually find her.'

His stomach lurched involuntarily as Teyla's words broke through his semi trance-like state. Dammit. Why the hell couldn't he keep his mind on the conversation. He thought about convincing himself it was because of the bang on the head he'd taken, and perhaps to some small degree that was right, but he'd been increasingly like this for the past few weeks. If Lorne did find her, it would mean seeing her again, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that. What the hell was he saying? He could strike a deal with a Wraith who had drained him of almost all his life, but he couldn't deal with one sick female? _Get a grip, John,_ he ordered himself.

'They might, but she's smart. She'll know if she keeps moving often enough, the trail will eventually go cold.'

Teyla held his gaze until he pulled his eyes away from hers, not wishing her to see the effect Sarayah still had on him. As he stared down at his feet, she said, 'Perhaps that would be for the best.'

He nodded, giving her a grim smile. 'Yeah, maybe.'

Shortly afterwards, his radio crackled into life. 'Sheppard...it's McKay. I still can't dial the gate. I guess the power relays weren't the problem after all.'

Opening a channel, he replied, 'Copy that, Rodney. Take whatever readings you can for now and make your way back to us. We'll work on it again in the morning.'

'I could figure it out easier if I stayed here.'

Sheppard tensed. Rodney questioning his decisions wasn't anything new, but today it riled him more than usual. 'That's a negative. Collect the data you need and return to camp.'

'How am I supposed to know what data –'

His grip on the radio tightening, Sheppard interrupted with, 'Rodney, the sun is going to set within the hour. I don't know about you, but I'd prefer not to be hanging around the Stargate on open ground with nowhere to hide and no means of escape if someone decides to come through it. So, collect the data and return to camp where you can work in safety.'

'I just thought it was important to tell you –'

'Rodney! Stop talking and get your ass back here!'

After a second or two of silence, it was Ronon who responded. 'On our way back, Sheppard.'

'Thank you, Ronon.'

Sheppard felt Teyla's gaze burning into him, and when he looked at the Athosian, she simply lifted her eyebrows in question. Tired of talking, the colonel decided not to explain himself. He was in charge. He didn't have to justify the calls he made to his subordinates.

Eventually, their two friends returned, McKay panting as he dropped to his knees beside them. 'Well, that has to be my exercise quota for the next month.'

'So, is it fixable?'

Rodney lifted his head and unleashed one of his customary scowls. 'I'm not sure. Maybe I'd have a better idea if I'd been allowed to stay there and work.'

'We dialled the co-ordinates, but still couldn't make a connection,' Ronon clarified. 'The symbols lit up when we touched them just like earlier, but when I hit the centre to activate it, it powered down.'

'Yeah...what he said!' McKay gasped.

That was not what Sheppard needed to hear. 'Well...is it broken?' he asked, 'or is it just off-line.'

'Off-line? I'm not trying to dial up the internet! This is the 'gate network. It doesn't just...disconnect when it finishes downloading!'

'So it's broken,' Sheppard stated, trying to get a handle on what they were up against.

Shaking his head, Rodney swallowed hard before answering. 'Doesn't look that way. I checked out the crystals and everything was fine. It just...doesn't work.'

Sheppard stared at him, running over the first dozen or so dangerous scenarios that could arise while they were unable to reach the safety of Atlantis. _Stop it, Sheppard. Now!_ Instead of imparting his panic to the others, he simply said, 'Well, I guess that means this _is_ a problem.'

'Yes...yes, it is.' Rodney gave him an odd look, as if wondering why he was stating something so obvious.

'So...what do we do?' Sheppard asked him.

'Well...I don't know...we could try again tomorrow, but I pretty much figure we'll get the same result. Let's face it, we're due to report back in half an hour, so Atlantis will know something's wrong when we don't.'

'Then what?' The colonel knew he was taking it out on Rodney again, but he didn't feel able to stop. 'It's not as if they can send a jumper over to fly us back, we're 985 years out of reach.'

'I'm sure I'll figure this out, Sheppard. I just need more time. It could be something to do with that freaky power anomaly jumping around like a rabbit on speed. It might be interfering with communication between the DHD and the gate.'

'Which means we're stuck here,' Ronon pointed out.

'I am aware of that.'

'Find a way to fix it, McKay,' Sheppard ordered.

'Right, I'll just wave my magic wand, shall I?'

'Perhaps,' Teyla said firmly, cutting through the argument with that single word. Once certain she had their attention, she continued. 'Perhaps we would all feel better and more able to think this problem through clearly if we took some refreshments.'

'Yeah, perhaps,' Sheppard agreed, knowing the processed food would do little for his own agitation, but it would at least prevent McKay from throwing hypoglycaemia into the mix.

They ate in silence, Sheppard's thoughts constantly fixed on the best way to get them off the planet in one piece. Hopefully, McKay was right about the interference, and if the power anomaly moved far enough away from the 'gate they would just be able to dial it up and go home.

Rodney, as ever, was the first to finish his meal and complain about how hungry he still felt. Sheppard shook his head; the man wasn't the most physical specimen of manhood, so presumably it was nervous energy that kept him so ravenous all the time

'Why can't they make these things twice the size?' he grumbled, pulling a power bar from his tac vest and devouring half of it in one bite.

'Because then your pack would have to be twice the size and that would give you something else to moan about,' Ronon cracked, giving Sheppard a goofy grin and a nudge with his elbow.

Teyla just rolled her eyes and shook her head like a patient mother. It seemed she realised her plan to diffuse the antagonistic atmosphere had failed.

John glanced at her swelling stomach, still relatively small, but now showing the signs of the growing life within her. A faint feeling of disappointment tugged at him, but he wasn't sure exactly what he was disappointed about. He told himself to stop being selfish and be happy for her since she was clearly content with her condition now it was out in the open, and once they found Kanaan, her life would be complete. He couldn't think of a single person who would make a better mom than Teyla; she'd had plenty of practice dealing with them, after all.

Acknowledging his friend's joke, Sheppard flicked Ronon a quick smile, but stayed out of the argument. Today, stuck here on this unfamiliar planet, he was struggling to see the humour in anything, and whatever he said now would only make things worse.

'So, what's up with you, Colonel "Cat's Got My Tongue?"' Rodney quipped, picking up his tablet and tapping at the keys without bothering to wait for his answer.

'Nothin'. Why?'

'Well, it's not like you not to comment on my eating habits when I moan about the rations.'

'Don't eat all your power bars at once, Rodney. You'll get gas,' he replied, hoping that was enough to deflect the scientist's attention from his previous line of enquiry. Of course, he knew Rodney was more persistent than that, but he could always hope.

A tense pause followed, one heavy with the promise of further questions. 'You know...you really shouldn't let it get to you,' McKay eventually continued, still looking at the screen balanced on his knees. 'Oh, now, that just doesn't make any sense. I've been running a scan on that anomaly, and now the power spike is about a trillion miles from here. I should get back to the 'gate and see if it makes any difference.'

Sheppard flashed an angry look at his friend. 'Not tonight, Rodney.' If his curt tone wasn't enough to sideline the conversation, maybe the power anomaly would be. A quick look around the others showed how edgy they had become. This wasn't a conversation anyone but Rodney thought was a good idea.

'Do you have any theories what could be causing it to jump around so erratically?' Teyla asked, adding a further distraction.

Rodney looked up long enough to roll his eyes and no longer. 'No, because, hard as this is to believe, I don't understand every weird happening in the universe the instant it occurs. I have no idea what it is; its fluctuations and movements are completely illogical.'

'Well, thank you for your assessment, Spock,' Sheppard grumbled, deciding he was hungry enough for a power bar himself now and seeking one out.

'I'll take that as a compliment coming from you, Captain Kirk,' the scientist fired back.

Sheppard bit back the yell that comment deserved, knowing he was referring to his recent run in with the Travellers rather than anything else. Rodney was still pissed that he'd yet again been kidnapped by a good-looking woman and had assumed, wrongly, that they'd hit it off...although Larin had been rather more charming that Sarayah, and the idea of running into her didn't fill him with the same sort of dread the thought of encountering Sarayah again did. She'd kidnapped him and tortured him just not as badly as Sarayah had, but Larin...well, Larin was on a far more even keel, as well as having an honest reason for abducting him. And at least most of his residual thoughts about her were pleasant. In fact, he admired her determination to preserve her race, and her ability to pull off that cute leather outfit...

'You know it wasn't your fault, right?'

Sheppard raised his eyes to meet Rodney's in question, having lost the thread of their conversation now. 'Huh?'

'What happened on Medulsa...Balfor...that wasn't your fault.'

'Rodney...' Teyla warned him gently.

'What? We can't skirt around it forever, right?' Rodney asked, his blue eyes huge and innocent. 'He needs to know that no one blames him.'

'Why don't we set up the tents while we wait for Atlantis to make contact?' Teyla suggested. 'Rodney, would you help me?' She steered him a few yards away and began unpacking their shelter.

Silence descended. That was no surprise, since Ronon wasn't big on talking at the best of times. But oddly, on this occasion, his friend appeared to deem it necessary. After a couple of uncomfortable attempts to speak, he finally said. 'He's right.'

Sighing inwardly, Sheppard decided he was going to have to reply. 'That's easy for you guys to say.'

'You weren't even there.'

'I know...and that's the problem. I let the Medulsans take Sarayah back to their planet without argument because I wanted her out of my hair. I should have pushed Elizabeth to persuade them to leave her in our charge.'

Ronon shrugged his broad shoulders, picking up the other tent and unravelling it ready to pitch. 'The Medulsans saw her as their problem. Weir didn't want to rock the boat since we'd only just made friends with them again.'

Sheppard rubbed his face hard, trying to clear his thinking. 'I know the wheres and whys, but I still think it was wrong. I was just too...' He allowed his voice to peter out. Too what? Too tired? Too sick? Too traumatised? All of them, he supposed. He'd just wanted that woman as far away from him as possible so he could get his life back on track.

'We all thought they had things in hand, Sheppard. Let it go.'

Sheppard nodded, knowing in his heart Ronon was right, but it just wasn't that easy. His inability to face the problem meant a dangerous woman was now on the loose in the galaxy...no...no...what was he saying? It wasn't his fault. He couldn't hold himself responsible for other people's actions. Sarayah had killed Balfor, not him. But he couldn't shake the feeling the man's death was intended as a personal message to him. Balfor was the person he'd grown closest to during his imprisonment under her watch; she was more than aware of the friendship they shared. The more he thought about it, when he allowed himself to think about it at all, the more he felt Balfor's death had been the proverbial throwing down of the gauntlet. She wanted him to come after her.

Colonel Carter, on the other hand, had insisted the investigation and subsequent hunt be led by Major Lorne, and he, feeling hugely relieved, had given no argument. But now...if anything happened to the major and his team at her hands..._You're doing it again, John!_

Shelters pitched, Rodney sat down and took a swig from his canteen. 'Well, if my camping skills are no longer required, I'll start checking that data I collected and see if I can come up with something resembling a theory.'

'That would be good,' Sheppard muttered, unrolling his sleeping mat and sliding it inside his and Ronon's tent.

'Hey! It's not my fault the 'gate doesn't work.'

'I never said it was, but it's sure as hell your job to get it working.'

'Jeez. Rip my head off, why don't you? What's wrong with you, Sheppard?'

John stopped, realising his tone was once again unreasonable and disproportionate. He knew what was wrong; he couldn't predict what might happen, and if he couldn't do that, he wasn't certain he could effectively protect his team, and that made him edgy. Not that any of that was Rodney's fault, but the scientist was an easy target for an argument because he couldn't resist biting. For once, his patience with Rodney's arrogance was stretched beyond its limits. For once, he felt like venting rather than walking on eggshells. But he wouldn't, because John Sheppard didn't actually do venting.

With his head now feeling like he had an axe wedged in it, Sheppard pushed up from the ground and checked his P-90. 'I'm gonna go check the area. I'll take first watch, then Ronon, then Teyla. Rodney, you work on the gate data. Oh, and you guys feel free to analyse me while I'm gone.'

He strode out of camp to the sound of Ronon punching Rodney's arm, followed by a pained yelp and a demand for an explanation. He knew he'd let himself down badly since the jumper crash. Now he needed space to pull himself together again.

Taking his time, he scoured the nearby surroundings, then returned to within sight of his team, sitting a short distance away from them to keep watch without disturbance. Ronon and Teyla looked relieved to see him, as if they'd been worried he might not return, but McKay was busy with his work and so barely acknowledged him. Sheppard suspected he'd been told to steer well clear of the topic of Medulsa in his absence. Teyla and Ronon always had his back – and although he knew Rodney hadn't meant any harm he wasn't about to discuss his feelings with them in the middle of a mission.

Just as ne swallowed down some more pills his radio cracked into life, and he heard the familiar tones of Sam calling his name._ 'Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis. Please respond.'_

'This is Sheppard. It's good to hear you.'

'_Problems?'_

'Kind of, Colonel. We can't dial the gate.'

She paused. _'Well, that explains the lack of contact. I thought we'd ascertained there was a working DHD before your trip.'_

'There is,' he replied. 'It's just not working quite how we'd like it to. Rodney's checking through the data he's managed to collect from the DHD; I'm sure he'll figure something out.' Sheppard knew the others would be listening in, and he hoped the scientist took that as an apology for his earlier outburst and a sign of his ongoing confidence in his skills.

'_Other than that, are you all right,'_ Carter asked.

'We're good, aside from a stray power anomaly that took out our engine pod. We came down pretty hard, and the jumper's totalled, but we're still in one piece.'

'_Anyone injured?'_

'I took a bump to the head, but it's nothing I can't handle. Other than that, we have a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing serious.'

'_Do you need me to send someone through to check you out?'_

'Negative. We could end up with even more personnel stranded here. Since there appears to be no direct threat, I recommend we let Rodney work on the problem for now, and review the situation tomorrow.'

'_Understood. I'm going to take the precaution of contacting Stargate Command and ask them to have the Daedalus on standby in case you can't fix the DHD. We'll contact you every three hours to ascertain your situation. Next contact at 2200 hours.'_

'Copy that.'

'_Oh, and Rodney. I presume you're listening. If you need help, just let us know.'_

'Yeah...sure. Thanks for calling,' the scientist responded.

'_Atlantis out.'_

Sam's voice faded, leaving them in isolation again. As the dismal light dimmed into night, and the rain clouds obscured the stars and any kind of natural light, Sheppard shrugged to work the wet fabric of his shirt loose from his skin. The way it clung to him reminded him of waking up on Karafus after his flogging, not something he particularly wanted to think about right now while so far from safety. He slipped on his night vision goggles and scoured the area, checking the camp, too. Ronon and Teyla had settled for the evening in the same tent, getting rest while they could, but, although Rodney had retreated to the other tent, Sheppard could see the light emanating from his computer screen through a slight opening in the flaps and knew he was still trying to resolve the 'gate's mysterious behaviour.

The colonel thought about heading over to tell him to give up for the night, but decided against it. This was the kind of thing Rodney enjoyed; he, Ronon and Teyla could share the watch and give the scientist as much time as he needed.

The hours ticked by painfully slowly, and, other than the occasional insect call or foraging animal, uneventfully. Even so, each tiny noise had him on alert, and, after three hours, he was exhausted and aching from his constantly taut posture.

Scheduled contact with Atlantis came and went, and the time for him to hand over to Ronon was rapidly approaching. He looked back at the shelters, seeing that even Rodney's tent was dark now. He'd hoped Rodney would come bounding over with the answer to their problems before he had to turn in, but it seemed, although he was desperate for that 'gate to open up and take them home, it wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Something shifted in the air around him. He felt a strange tingling sensation in the follicles of his forearms, as if his hairs were suddenly all standing to attention. The air danced with static, like a millions pins sticking him at once, and the canvas shelters billowed in a sudden burst of wind that had blown up out of nowhere at all.

He stood, rising slowly and listening. Silence. Not even the insects clicked or chirruped now. Then, utter chaos erupted. A massive roar woke his sleeping friends, a strange rushing noise bringing everyone running from their tents to join him. The night sky lit up for just a moment, crackling with electric currents and swirling the clouds as if a cyclone were forming.

And then it was gone, over just as quickly as it started.

Instinctively, he, Teyla and Ronon had all raised their weapons in defence. They cautiously lowered them again, gaping at the now inactive skies.

'What the hell _is_ that thing?' Sheppard asked no one in particular.

'I have no idea!' Rodney gasped, shuffling forward to join him. 'Looked like some kind of freaky electrical storm.'

'Rodney, Atlantis is due to contact us again in a little over two hours. I want you to send them all the data you've collected on this 'gate problem _and_ that anomaly. I think it's time to get someone working on things from their end so we can get home,' Sheppard told him.

Rodney was uncharacteristically co-operative, a sure sign of just how shaken that little display had left him. 'Sure. I'll compose a data burst now.'

When Sheppard headed over to Ronon, even he looked troubled. 'Sorry, buddy, but it's your turn to take watch now. If you hear or see anything..._anything_...that worries you, you wake me up, understand?'

'No problem. Doubt if I could sleep now anyway.'

'Yeah. I know what you mean.'

Sheppard headed into the tent Rodney had previously been sleeping in, unclipped his gun and lay down on the spare sleeping mat. He doubted he would get any sleep either, but he was too exhausted not to try. He hadn't had a full night's sleep since Sarayah's escape, and it was beginning to take its toll. At least he might get some small amount of respite from his migraine.

Lying on his back, staring at the blackness engulfing him, he tried to empty his mind and relax enough to drift off. Surprisingly, sleep came despite his certainly it would evade him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks again for the comments and alerts/favourites. It's all very much appreciated, as always. :D**

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**Chapter 3 **

_Struggling had little effect; try as he might Sheppard couldn't squirm free of Sarayah's grip. She flung him up the steps of her hut and he hit the floor hard, the air leaving his lungs in a forced rush. Thankfully he managed to land face first on the wooden boards, thus sparing his shredded back any further stress. It already raged enough in protest at his treatment._

_He tried to get up, but she kicked him flat again. As he lay there, sucking in shallow breaths against the pain, he heard her pouring out a drink, a drink that would strip him of what little resistance he had left. It was definitely time to get the hell out of there._

_No sooner had he started toward the door when she grabbed his hair and the back of his trousers, using his weight and the momentum to swing him onto her bed. Much as he wanted to get back up, he was spent. The sound of her securing the door made his stomach heave with panic, but even that couldn't motivate him to move faster. Before he could rise, she sat on the back of his thighs, the pain from the bullet lodged in his muscle increasing ten-fold with the added pressure of her weight._

_After muffling his scream in her putrid mattress, he yelled out, 'What the hell are you doing?'_

'_Teaching you some respect,' was her simple response. _

_He tried to pull free as he felt the sensation of rough ropes abrading the skin of his wrists, but she knew how to subdue his defiance, punching his lacerated back until he stopped struggling and let her do it. She bound him tight, the coarse fibres chafing his skin and inhibiting his circulation. Then she flipped him over onto his back. Though he hadn't wanted to give her the pleasure of hearing his pain, the searing agony of his injuries tore a reluctant scream from his tightened lips._

'_Oh, not so tough now, eh, Sheppard?' she asked, pressing on his chest to increase his torture._

_Only pure stubbornness stopped him from crying out again, and he was nothing if not stubborn._

_When she caught hold of his ankles and started looping rope around them, too, he kicked his one good leg until he made contact with her stomach, knocking her back hard against the wall. Rather than slowing her, it simply fuelled the fire. She grabbed hold of his injured leg and dug her thumb into his bullet wound, gouging it into the raw flesh exposed by the bullet as it had torn its way in. He bucked against the pain, and, grinning maniacally, she revelled in his torment._

'_Hold still or I'll do that again.'_

_Nausea threatened to overwhelm him. While he enjoyed the brief respite in her cruelty, she managed to tie up his ankles, pulling the rope tight as he squirmed to try and loosen them. It was no good; she'd clearly done this before._

_The sound of someone thumping on the door echoed around the hut. 'Sarayah. Are you all right?' _

Of course she's all right. I'm the one who's in trouble! _Sheppard's mind screamed to the woman outside._

'_I'm fine, go away!' she barked._

_She leapt off him, slamming her shutters closed before anyone could see the scene unfolding in there. Then, she turned back to him, her smile as vicious as the look in her soulless eyes. Picking up the drink she had poured from her nightstand, she sauntered toward him, climbing back onto the bed and straddling his battered body to further pin him down. He pulled against his restraints, but his wrists were secured tightly behind his back leaving him with no means to fight back. He could smell the draught as soon as she brought the cup near him. His mind raced for ideas of how to make sure that drink didn't make it past his lips. If it did, there would be nothing he could do to stop her sordid plans for him._

'_Since you're so determined to get away from me, I'd better have my fun while I can,' she threatened, catching hold of his jaw and turning his face to her. _

_Sheppard pressed his mouth tight shut. This was his last defence; his lips a barrier against the pervasive conduit of her evil intentions toward him. She pressed her fingers harder into his jaw, trying to lever it open but he was determined not to give in. She would have to break his jaw before he'd relent – not that he would put that past her._

_Sarayah, however, had other ideas, gouging her thumb into his bullet wound again, knowing exactly how agonising that invasion was. When she eventually elicited his reluctant scream, she filled his mouth with the draught, clamping his jaw shut and covering his mouth and nose so he couldn't draw breath. He wanted to spit it out in her face but couldn't. He forced a tiny amount from the corners of his mouth in pathetically inadequate trickles, but the bulk of it sat on his tongue, patiently waiting for the inevitable swallow reflex that would set it on its course. He struggled and bucked, but he was weak and she was strong, and she was well aware of that__._

_Please, let her give up!_ _he begged. His plea sadly went unheeded. _

_Eventually, he bowed to her will, imbibing the noxious liquid he knew would steal his resistance. In return for his compliance, she released her hold on him, allowing a welcome rush of air to inflate his starved lungs. As he gasped, she caught his face and tipped the cup over his open mouth again. _

'_They're not coming for you...your friends,' Sarayah purred, clamping his jaws together again and pinching his nose closed. 'Weir is dead...thanks to you...and the others don't really care. This is all just a bit of fun to them...something for them to talk about.'_

_Sheppard couldn't work out what was going on for a moment; something in the back of his mind told him this wasn't how this scene usually played out. Weir hadn't been dead then...she is dead now, though? Was that true? Then he realised this was a dream, yet another nightmare replay of one of Sarayah's attacks. So that meant he could wake up now. Right?_

_He swallowed, the effects of her demon brew already taking effect as the walls and ceiling swayed around him, wood seeming to turn to Jell-o – wavering, unstable. Maybe he could just force his way out through the walls themselves. But he didn't need to, because this was a dream._

_She pulled a knife on him, using it first to slit his tunic open wide, then to score a pretty swirl onto his skin as if doodling on a canvas. He gritted his teeth as the tip of the blade sliced through the top few layers of skin, setting free a thin line of blood, waiting for someone to barge the door in. That was what had really happened. Sarayah had been stopped. There had definitely been no playing with knives that he recalled. Only...Elizabeth was dead. She'd been the one to arrive with the cavalry...but this was a dream...so she could still do that, couldn't she?_

'_No one's coming, John,' Sarayah told him, as if responding to his unspoken thoughts. 'I told you...no one cares. This time it's just you and me.'_

'_Gerroffov me!' he slurred, twisting away as she leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips. She satisfied herself with nibbling his earlobe, sending a weird thrill into the pit of his stomach. 'Thissisn' real!'_

_Her tongue flickered in his ear as she tossed the knife aside and he felt roving hands make their way down to his belt, fumbling with the knot there. 'No, it's not,' she whispered. 'This was all a long time ago, but you can't let it go, can you? Why is that, John? Why do you dream about me doing this time and time again?'_

_Her mouth burned against the skin of his neck as she worked her way down to his collarbone, biting him until she made him hiss a protest. Why couldn't he wake up? He wanted to...he needed to...so why the hell was he still dreaming this? Why weren't the drugs knocking him senseless anymore?_

'_Interesting question,' she whispered, planting kisses and sharps nips across his chest. He flinched and tried in vain to roll away, crying out as his back pain seared to a crescendo again. 'Wasn't it bad enough, John? Didn't I punish you enough? Do you feel like you deserved more?' _

'_I didn't deserve this at all,' he croaked, his voice failing as emotions he'd been suppressing for months welled inside him._

'_So why are you doing this to yourself? You can stop me if you really want to.'_

_Yes, he could stop her...unless this wasn't a dream and the drugs were just making him think it was. Maybe this wasn't something from his past...maybe this was happening right here, right now, and he was letting it carry on because her damned drugs had him convinced it was all just in his head._

_He had to fight. Thrashing his body did nothing to shift her; she rode him like an unbroken horse, clinging on and laughing at his desperate attempts to get free of her._

'_You can't throw me aside, Sheppard,' she told him. 'You'll never be rid of me. Do you understand that, Sheppard? Never. Do you hear me, Sheppard? Sheppard...'_

'Sheppard...Sheppard. Ow! SHEPPARD! Quit flailing for pity's sake!'

'Wh...unh...what?!'

Sheppard's eyes snapped open. Green canvas surrounded him, not the Jell-O hut he'd seen in his nightmare, nor the thick wooden trunks of the true event. He wasn't there. Sarayah wasn't here. None of that was happening. He almost felt like crying with relief until he remembered where he actually was and who he was with. After a few seconds, his senses battered their way to the forefront and he realised he could feel something restraining his wrists. Rodney had hold of them, the cheekbone beneath his left eye looking oddly reddened and mildly swollen. Sheppard glanced down at the pale white knuckled hands, then back up at McKay again, throwing him a look that told him to let go before he made him.

The scientist released his grip as soon as he was sure Sheppard was fully conscious of where he was, scooting back to his side of the tent to give him space. 'What the hell were you dreaming about?'

'Uhhm?'

'You were having some kind of nightmare...fighting like a cornered tiger. What was that all about?'

Embarrassed that he'd betrayed his inner turmoil, Sheppard shot him a sharp look. 'Never mind...'

'Never mind? Let me guess. Sarayah, right? You do know the chances of any of us actually finding her are next to zero. The Pegasus Galaxy is big enough for her to hide in for the rest of her life if she chooses to.'

'_If _she chooses to,' Sheppard muttered. 'Has Atlantis come back with any help yet?'

'Not yet. But their next scheduled contact is in twenty minutes, so no doubt they'll update us on how monumentally screwed we are then.'

Sleep evidently hadn't improved Rodney's mood, but it had reduced Sheppard's headache he was glad to realise, which meant he'd be more able to put up with the griping today. Even the swelling had reduced a little in his brow. He checked his P-90 and clipped it to his tac-vest. 'Now, Rodney. Things aren't that bad.'

'Well, excuse me for worrying. Look, you may not consider being stranded on a planet with an unpredictable and stupendously powerful atmospheric anomaly a problem, but I do. Especially if you're going to make punching me in the eye a regular sport.'

Sheppard sighed, staring wearily into the huge blue eyes of his almost perpetually agitated friend. Apparently, today was going to be just as stressful as yesterday, so it was probably best to try to start it on the right footing. 'I'm sorry for hitting you, Rodney. I didn't know what I was doing. Now, I don't suppose you've come up with anything resembling a resolve for the gate problem, by any chance?'

'No, not yet...though not through lack of trying. I spent so long trying to figure it out last night, I only had a couple of hours sleep – unlike some people. Though how you can sleep with so much going on is beyond me.'

Sheppard scratched at his tousled hair and yawned. 'Yeah. Guess I was more tired than I realised.'

Rodney looked a little sheepish now, as if he regretted his griping. 'Well, at least that sleep might have done you some good. You've been looking tired for weeks now –'

'I'm gonna go check on Teyla,' Sheppard interrupted, standing up and ducking out of the tent before McKay could continue.

Outside, Ronon was already up, and he and Teyla were brewing a pot of coffee; he could smell it on the air as soon as he stepped outside the tent, and it was a most welcome aroma.

'McKay. Coffee's on,' he called back over his shoulder, figuring that would give the scientist a boost. 'So, anything to report?'

Both Teyla and Ronon shook their heads. 'Not on my watch,' Ronon told him.

'Nor mine,' Teyla concurred.

Sheppard took a seat beside them, rubbing his eyes to clear away the last vestiges of sleep still lingering with him. Coffee was exactly what he needed to perk him up since his troubled dreams had done little to recharge his batteries even if it had cured the worst of his headache. His brain was so preoccupied with thoughts of his crazy stalker these days it barely if ever switched off.

'McKay figured out how to activate the gate yet?' Ronon asked.

Rodney staggered out into the sunlight, shielding his eyes from its brightness. 'Not yet...no.'

'So we're _still_ stuck here,' Ronon grunted.

Though Sheppard wasn't happy with the idea either, he was determined to do a better job of holding it together for his team today, so offered his friend some reassurance. 'Well, we were scheduled to catch up on some paperwork today, so it's not all bad. I'm sure Rodney or the guys back on Atlantis will have this figured out soon.'

'I wouldn't bank on that,' Rodney muttered, sitting down to wait for his caffeine fix. Ronon stared at him a while, until the scientist demanded, 'What?'

'What happened to your eye?'

'Sheppard hit me. Trust me, you do not want to be sharing a tent with him when he has a nightmare.'

'Rodney,' Sheppard warned.

'I still believe our best plan is to head to the village we spotted yesterday. Perhaps they know of a way to make the 'gate connect with Atlantis,' Teyla offered, changing the subject as she poured the hot coffee into four tin cups.

'Oh yes, because the backwoods folk living out here on the outskirts of the galaxy are bound to succeed where the smartest man in two galaxies has failed,' Rodney snorted, taking the cup she held out toward him without offering his thanks.

Much as his arrogance annoyed him, John bit his tongue, knowing Teyla was more than capable when it came to manipulating Rodney to her way of thinking.

Teyla gave the scientist a patient smile. 'The peoples of this planet and their forbearers have likely lived here for centuries, Rodney. Perhaps they have already devised a way to deal with this glitch we have discovered...if that is indeed what it is.'

Rodney gave that some thought. 'I suppose...'

'And perhaps that solution is something very simple, too simple for someone of your undoubted intellect to even consider.'

Sheppard caught Ronon leaning back and smirking, knowing Rodney couldn't see his face. He suppressed his own smile and sipped at his coffee, enjoying the kick it gave him.

'So, what you're saying is...I might be _too_ smart to solve this,' Rodney clarified.

'Precisely,' Teyla smiled serenely.

After taking a moment to consider it, McKay nodded emphatically. 'Huh! You may have a point.'

Teyla peered at Sheppard over the rim of her cup, and he acknowledged her skilled efforts with a surreptitious dip of his head.

'So,' the colonel announced. 'We're agreed our best course of action is to scope out the natives and find out what they know?'

The others replied in the affirmative.

'Right. So, here's the plan. We eat breakfast, alert Atlantis to our plans when they make contact – unless they have a solution –'

'Fat chance of that,' Rodney muttered.

Sheppard shrugged. 'If they don't, once we've eaten we head over to the village and see if the good people there know exactly where to kick the DHD to get it working again.'

'Ah. So that's where we're going wrong,' McKay sneered, pulling a meal out from his pack, and peeling back the lid. 'There I was thinking it would take a genius to fix the problem, when all we really need is The Fonz.'

Sheppard sputtered out the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken, looking around at Ronon and Teyla's confused frowns. 'Long story. I'll explain some other time,' he promised, mopping his drink from his chin. Trust Rodney to get him laughing even when he was at his lowest ebb.

The next scheduled contact from Atlantis confirmed the worst; no one there had any clue what the problem with the DHD and gate on M67-982 was either. Sam was apologetic, she even offered to come through herself, but Rodney silently signalled no, and Sheppard figured that was probably for the best. It wouldn't do to have both of Atlantis' commanders stranded off world.

'Okay, I'll give you until 1200 hours to figure this out Rodney, then you have to swallow your pride,' Sam advised him. Sheppard was impressed; Carter knew McKay almost as well as they did.

To offer them some light at the end of the tunnel, Sam advised them the Daedalus had been alerted to their situation, and had changed course in case its assistance was required. At worst, they would be beamed off the planet in ten days, which would leave them with plenty of time to study the power anomaly, if it didn't fry them first.

'We're planning to head down to the nearby village to see if we can get any useful intel from the locals,' Sheppard told her. 'Teyla thinks they may know the secret to working the 'gate and I'm willing to give it a try.'

'All right, Colonel. But proceed with extreme caution,' she advised him.

'First sign of any hostility, we'll withdraw and find a safe place to hole up,' he assured her.

'We'll send through reinforcements if required,' she told him. 'But try not to get into any trouble, John. Ten days is a long time to hide out on an unfriendly world.'

'Yes it is,' he agreed. 'We'll do our best to keep things amicable.'

'That would be good,' she replied, her smile clear in the tone of her voice. 'Next contact in three hours. Atlantis out.'

Breakfast consumed, the team gathered up their gear and began the approximately six-click trek to the village. As they walked, Rodney continued to run scans, occasionally tripping and thudding into Sheppard's back, who had taken point to feel in control of the journey. He would mutter an apology each time, and Sheppard left it at that, because busy Rodney was eminently more bearable than "whining about his aching feet" Rodney.

'You know, this thing just seems to appear out of nowhere. There's almost no warning, no particular atmospheric conditions we could use to predict its arrival. It just not there, and then it is.'

'That's weird,' Sheppard replied, more to placate him than through any desire to enter into an in-depth conversation about it. In truth, the anomaly didn't interest him as much as getting off this planet and back to the safety of Atlantis did. He wished he would concentrate his efforts on that.

'It's more than weird, it's impossible,' Rodney ranted. 'There's just no way this should be happening.'

'That's very interesting, Rodney. Now, how about we keep quite so we don't go alerting the locals to our approach before we're ready?'

'Am I the only person who gets how screwed up this is?' McKay panted, attaching the tablet back onto his backpack.

'And you wonder why Sheppard hit you,' Ronon grunted, bringing a smile to Sheppard's face, though he was careful to conceal it.

A short way from the village, the colonel balled his fist and brought them to a halt, pulling out his field binoculars to take a better look at what awaited them. The village looked pretty peaceful; one or two figures wandered from one building to another, but most people were out of view. Of course, calm and peaceful didn't mean they would receive a rapturous welcome...

Sheppard turned to the others. 'Looks unnaturally quiet down there. Are we still agreed we want to make contact?' In truth, he knew they had little option but to try to communicate with anyone who was willing to listen, but the nagging sense that all was not well made him run the plan past them again.

When the team signalled their agreement, he led them across the last stretch of ground toward the eerily quiet settlement. It was like a ghost town now, not even a single inhabitant peered through a window or stood watching warily from behind a doorjamb. Even though the team made no attempt to hide their presence, no one came out to greet them. Apparently, everyone was otherwise occupied, too busy inside their homes to notice them.

Sheppard craned his neck to look over his shoulder, finding the others looking just as puzzled as he was.

'Perhaps we should just go back to the 'gate and I can work on this problem myself,' Rodney suggested, betraying his obvious discomfort with the situation. Rodney getting nervous was nothing new; the way Ronon and Teyla's eyes darted to every window, door and passageway had him more worried. They sensed trouble, and so did he.

They had stopped a few steps before he did, and he turned back now to cover the ground between them. 'The way I see it, we have two choices; we either start knocking on some doors and letting people know we're here, or we go back to the 'gate and hope we can fathom this problem out for ourselves. Preferences?'

Before any of them could voice their opinions, someone stirred behind him, a door opened, and Teyla and Ronon instantly raised their weapons as whoever was behind him dropped what they were carrying.

Sheppard spun now, too, half-expecting to find himself staring down the dangerous end of a honking great gun. But instead, his eyes locked onto two near-black orbs, staring back at him in genuine disbelief. His legs turned to rubber, but he locked his knees and mentally ordered them to hold him up. In that instant, he was no longer Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, but a frightened fourteen-year-old boy defiantly fighting to maintain his dignity.

He raised his weapon higher, pointing it directly into the face of the figure who had stumbled upon them.

Sarayah raised her hands, making no attempt to challenge him.

Licking his dry lips, he called back to Rodney in a voice more ragged than jovial, 'Almost zero chance, huh?'

All he heard in response was a baleful, 'Oh, crap!'


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Once again, thanks to all those of you taking the time to comment, and to those who are enjoying the story enough to put in on alert/favourite it. It means a lot! :D**

**Chapter 4 **

Colonel Carter squinted at the shimmering Stargate as if bringing it into sharper focus would somehow change the message she was currently receiving. 'Say again, Teyla.'

Teyla's voice bore a rarely heard strain as she repeated her words carefully. '_I said, once we entered the village, we discovered Sarayah was living here amongst the community. Apparently she has been here some several weeks.'_

'Living there? Not holding them hostage or causing any problems for them?' Sam clarified.

'_No. The residents were quite clear in that. Apparently, Sarayah is a fully functioning member of their society, and they have experienced no problems with her behaviour whatsoever.'_

A frown puckered Sam's brow. That didn't make sense. All the psychological reports she'd read on Sarayah suggested she was a hugely dangerous individual, but with her sociopathic tendencies, she supposed that did mean she was more than capable of reining in her violent and perverse desires if the situation required it, especially if the identified trigger for those behaviours was absent. Except now, that trigger was right there with her. That had to be bad...very bad.

'And where is Colonel Sheppard now?' she asked, her chest tightening at the thought of how he would be feeling. Much as the stoic colonel had kept his past trauma under wraps, she had spotted the various signs of his inner turmoil in his behaviour over the last few months. Of course, the deaths of several members of Atlantis' personnel he had considered friends hadn't helped, but she'd always suspected his tensions ran deeper than just bereavement issues. She knew herself what it was like to be wanted – needed – by someone she had no feelings for, and it wasn't an easy burden to carry. Fifth had been nothing more than a Human Form Replicator with simulated emotions, but he had shown more humanity than reports suggested Sarayah was capable of. The news of her escape and Balfor's death had shaken Sheppard, she'd seen that as he'd sat in her office with the colour draining from his face, and she had allowed him to convince her he was okay. She had made a mental note to ask Sheppard if he wanted to talk the moment the situation allowed, but whenever she'd tried he'd always brushed it aside as unimportant. People like John Sheppard did not open up easily. No doubt he saw his problems as his own to deal with, even if that problem was something even the most qualified medics and psychologists had failed to master.

'_He is in the house of Frah Mussa, the leader of this community, or at least that was my assessment. He assures us they live as equals, everyone playing their part to maintain their self-sustaining lifestyle._ _Personally, I believe he has a little more sway than the others, but he denies any such role. Colonel Sheppard is presently trying to convince the Frah to release Sarayah into our custody for their safety.'_

'I take it Frah Mussa isn't willing to do that?'

'_So far, no. I am afraid I do not know exactly why, as Colonel Sheppard insisted I stay outside and report to you when you made contact. I believe he thinks he is protecting me.'_

Sam couldn't help but smile. That sounded like John, all right, worrying about everyone else when he was actually the one in danger. It was a leadership quality that made him an outstanding officer despite the military's poor expectations of him when he'd first embarked on the mission.

'Have you had any more encounters with the power anomaly that took out the jumper?' she asked the Athosian.

'_Not since the appearance that woke us last night. Even then, it did not come too close.'_

'Well, we've studied the data Rodney sent through, and it looks like it actually closed in on your position from quite some distance away. It might be designed to lock in on aircraft in that way, and that's why it hasn't troubled you much since. You should hopefully be safe now.'

'That makes sense, but I know I am not the only one who will be pleased to get off this planet when we can. Between the anomaly and Sarayah's appearance, this has turned out to be somewhat less routine than we had anticipated.'

'All right, Teyla. I want you and the team to hold the situation as best you can. I'm going to send through two details to help police the settlement and take medical advice on dealing with Sarayah. Unfortunately, due to the fact that anomaly honed in on the jumper, I have to recommend they make for your position on foot.'

'Yes, I believe that would be wise. But please hurry. I fear for the colonel's safety with Sarayah in such close proximity. We know what she is capable of once she sets her mind on something.'

'Don't worry, Teyla. We'll be with you shortly. Atlantis out'

Major Lorne's team had arrived back on Atlantis the previous day after a tiring and fruitless search of yet another world on the list of possible locations Sarayah had gated to after her escape. They'd exhausted the list drawn from the Medulsan DHD itself, and had moved onto new lists extracted from the DHDs at the viable addresses on that original breakdown, a so-called second-round search. Though she knew they were in need of a break, they were the people most thoroughly briefed on Sarayah and the best way of dealing with her...condition. As a result, Sam reluctantly felt compelled to contact Lorne and ask him to ready his team along with four more marines of his choice. She didn't want them to turn up en masse and overwhelm the villagers, but at the same time, she knew from reports of Colonel Sheppard's previous encounters with the Medulsan, and the various psychological assessments Dr Heightmeyer had carried out in the time she worked with her, Sarayah could be an extremely effective and resilient adversary once her target was in her sights.

She suspected the situation would require a delicate touch, and while she trusted Teyla to know what to do, it seemed Sheppard had decided he and the other men were going to take the lead in any dealings with the woman. Knowing how brash and aggressive both Rodney and Ronon could be, and how closed down Sheppard was about the whole issue, she suspected that could prove a problem. Sarayah didn't like men – aside from her obsessive interest in the spirited colonel – but that had as much to do with control as any physical attraction. If the three of them got too heavy with her, she might simply see it as a bigger challenge.

The next stop as she mobilised troops was the infirmary. Jennifer was in the middle of her rounds when Sam got there, but on seeing her troubled expression instructed Marie to continue without her and guided Sam straight to her office.

'What is it? What's wrong?' she asked, as the door slid shut behind them.

'We've found Sarayah –' Sam began.

Keller's eyes widened. 'Well, that's a good thing, right? I mean, it has to be better than leaving her running loose in the galaxy preying on the weak.'

Sam grimaced. 'Yeah...normally I'd agree with you, but since she's turned up on the planet Colonel Sheppard's team was exploring –'

Jennifer jaw dropped. 'You're kidding? But they're trapped there, right?'

'Right,' Sam nodded.

For a moment the doctor just stared back at her, looking puzzled. 'Well, obviously you didn't come down here to update me. What can I do to help?'

'This is a big ask, Jennifer,' Sam said, her eyes wide and imploring, 'But if our people are going to be stranded there with her, I'd like you to attend to keep her...calm.'

'You want me to medicate her?' Jennifer clarified.

'Pretty much...yeah,' Sam nodded. 'You can do that, right?'

'Well, it doesn't seem like it was too successful on Medulsa,' the doctor pointed out. 'The problem is, if her behaviours are driven by sociopathic urges, no amount of medication will completely cure her. We were giving her the highest safe dose of Ritalin possible to control her violent impulses, but it doesn't look like it worked.'

'But there has to be some kind of control...'

Jennifer shook her head. 'Sociopaths have an essential brain function either missing or under-developed. The main symptom of that deficiency is a lack of empathy. It's not like I can give her an empathy implant and this will all go away. All we can do is...well...sedate her to the point she barely knows who she is, and that raises a number of ethical questions I don't even want to get into.'

That thought had occurred to Sam. Some of the later reports submitted by both Kate and Dr Keller had described Sarayah as subdued and disassociated whilst on her medication, although it seemed now that at least some of those qualities had been feigned to ensure her captors would underestimate her. They couldn't afford to let her trick them again.

'Would you say she's a threat to Colonel Sheppard?'

The doctor laughed almost nervously. 'Only if he doesn't do what she wants...which is a given where he and Sarayah are concerned,' she replied. 'But, the truth is, Colonel Sheppard is probably the safest person on that planet. Much as she might be willing to hurt him to coerce him into behaving according to her rules, it's obvious she wants him alive...at least for now. He can't...' she paused, searching for the appropriate wording to express her theory, '_satisfy her needs_ if he's dead. But, should anyone come between Sarayah and what she believes is rightfully hers...well...let's put it this way...I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.'

'So, potentially everyone on that planet is in danger should they try to stop her getting to him?'

Jennifer nodded. 'Potentially, yes.'

Sam didn't like making these kinds of calls, but the time had come to take decisive action with this woman as far as she was concerned. She'd been given a chance to redeem herself, to repay the society she'd wronged by making deals with the Atrascans, but she had manipulated and tricked them until the time had arisen when she could affect an escape. 'Then I think it's time to look beyond what's ethical and focus on what's necessary. I want you to head out with the teams going to M67-982 and persuade the Frahs to let you medicate her, whether she's compliant or not. Make sure you have enough sedatives to keep her out of action for the next ten days at least, just in case we don't figure out the problem with the 'gate and you have to wait for the Daedalus to show up.'

'So, who else is going down there?' Jennifer asked, snatching up her jacket from the back of her chair and heading back out into the infirmary to collect what she needed.

'Major Lorne's taking his team and four other marines to police the situation,' Carter advised her.

'Can I make a suggestion?'

Carter stopped, intrigued to know what the young medic had to say. 'Sure...go ahead.'

'Sarayah has a very low opinion of men in general. Colonel Sheppard is pretty much the only one she even seems to notice – I know Carson never got any joy from her and he was one of the most likeable guys I ever knew. Bearing that in mind, wouldn't it be better to have some women down there dealing with her? She might show at least a little more respect for their opinions.'

Impressed by the doctor's theory, Sam nodded her approval. 'You know...you may have a point.' She tapped her earpiece. 'Major Lorne, there's been a change of plans.'

oooOOOooo

Rodney sat in the corner of Frah Mussa's basic and somewhat dingy abode, trying to make himself small enough not to be noticed. Early Colonial, that was his assessment of the level of development here, although the brick structures were a little more solid than those the first settlers had constructed. Right now, he could think of a list of places as long as the distance between this building and the 'gate he would rather be, including back in Russia on the naquadah generator programme, but he figured that still wouldn't be as long as the list Sheppard could draw up if asked.

To his credit, the colonel was maintaining an impressive facade of professionalism whilst trying desperately to persuade the natives of the danger Sarayah posed to them, an act, it seemed, that was tantamount to banging his head against the very brick walls surrounding them.

'Frah Mussa, please, you have to understand that Sarayah is a very, _very, _dangerous woman, who will –'

Frah Mussa, a man in the latter stages of middle-age who apparently enjoyed a healthy appetite judging by his girth, held a podgy, white-gloved hand up in Sheppard's direction to silence him. Rodney watched as Sheppard struggled to keep whatever expletives were now teetering on the tip of his tongue just where they were.

'It is you who does not seem to understand, Colonel Sheppard. Moved as we are by your concern for our welfare, we are not worried. This is a planet of refuge and solace; no one here is judged on their former misdemeanours by any member of our society.'

That had to be the dumbest thing Rodney had ever heard, and he'd heard some pretty ridiculous stuff over the years. Some of the people he'd worked with had more closely resembled these village idiots than experts in their fields, but he supposed, considering his intellect, it wasn't their fault they couldn't measure up to his expectations. Frah Mussa, however, was everything he'd feared he would be...and more.

'And I must insist again that you allow us to take your weapons and dispose of them. It is one of the conditions of acceptance into our society.'

Rodney watched Sheppard's grip on his gun tighten all the more. He wasn't going to let that baby go without a fight. 'As I've already explained, we're just passing through, and if it's all the same to you, we'll be keeping hold of all our weapons until we leave. I gave them up on a planet once before and ended up having the crap beaten out of me before I was forced into several days of slavery. I'm not about to let that happen again.'

'There are no slaves on this planet, Colonel Sheppard, I assure you. Everyone here plays their part willingly, so there is no call for threats or violence.'

The Frah, surrounded by several other men bearing the same title, all of whom dressed identically in what he considered completely impractical off-white buttoned cotton shirts, with fingertip length flared sleeves over matching trousers, remained impassive. Sheppard's pleas for co-operation and understanding simply bounced off him like hail off a windowpane – noisy but ineffectual. Rodney watched Sheppard's shoulders growing steadily more hunched as he tried, once again, to make the man see sense.

'Well, perhaps that's worked for you before because you've been lucky enough never to fall foul of someone quite like her.' Sheppard jabbed a slim finger in Sarayah's direction without even looking at her, as if he was so aware of her aura he could even pinpoint her exact position in the room without the need for a visual. Perhaps he could. Rodney could pretty much locate a sugar donut at fifty paces using his sense of smell alone, so he supposed it was possible. She didn't flinch at the motion, holding her peace as Sheppard assassinated her character.

'Sarayah has told us of her past life as a prison guard on Medulsa. She confessed to committing some violent acts, buts she is repentant of her transgressions now.'

The fact they knew that much about her clearly threw the colonel for a moment, but he was on a crusade to save their asses, so rallied, coming right back at Frah Mussa with another question. 'Is the violence all she mentioned?'

'As I have said before, we are not worried by Sarayah's previous actions,' the Frah reiterated patiently. 'We are not here to judge. We are merely the caretakers of Guedeseo.'

_Guedeseo? What kind of a name is that for a planet?_Rodney wondered. _Couldn't they come up with something easier to pronounce?_

'It is not Colonel Sheppard's fault,' Sarayah suddenly said, surprisingly defending him. 'He does not understand the ways of your planet yet, Frah Mussa.'

Sheppard's reaction was instant and silencing. 'You DO NOT speak for me. EVER! Understand?'

Every person in the room flinched at the force of his assertion. Even Ronon. Sarayah bowed her head and looked suitably ashamed, while Rodney watched Sheppard aghast, waiting in awe-stuck horror to see what happened next. So much for keeping things friendly. That was the point at which he realised they weren't going to get anywhere with Sheppard running the negotiations, because no matter how good an actor he was, Sarayah was apparently a better one.

Regaining his calm composure, the Frah spoke up again. 'Colonel Sheppard, we do not condone the raising of voices on Guedeseo. It is seen as a form of aggression, and aggression will simply not be countenanced here.'

Sheppard's teeth were now clenched so hard Rodney could see a nerve in his jaw twitching along with the vein pulsed in his temple. He was doing his best to hold it in, but there was clearly a volcano's worth of suppressed anger waiting to erupt. Rodney wanted to step in and add his weight to the argument, to lend the colonel his support, but Sheppard had expressly ordered both he and Ronon to leave the talking to him, since neither of them were at their best during verbal communications. He wondered if that instruction still stood.

'I apologise, Frah Mussa' Sheppard ground out, leaning forward on his knuckles on the Frah's respectable if plain looking desk. 'But my raised voice is both necessary and unavoidable since you don't appear to have heard a damn word I've said! This woman will eat everyone on this planet for breakfast if you don't let us deal with her!'

'_Colonel Sheppard. I need to speak with you urgently.' _

Teyla's voice in their ears cut through the mounting tension and immediately cooled Sheppard's temper.

'Excuse me,' he said more quietly, not waiting for an answer.

The Frah dipped his head as Sheppard scooted outside, Rodney and Ronon following close behind him.

Out in the less oppressive daylight, Rodney felt a little of the tension that had been tightening his chest in that hot room release its pressure. Those guys really needed to learn to put bigger windows in their homes...and to open them sometimes. Seriously, how could they bear this heat?

'What is it Teyla. You got news from Atlantis?' Sheppard asked as he strode toward her.

'Some. They are sending further military personnel to help manage this situation. They will be with us as soon as they can, but Colonel Carter felt it unwise to send through another jumper considering our unfortunate incident yesterday –'

'You called me out here to tell me that?' he demanded, planting his hands on his hips. 'This could have waited Teyla. I was right in the middle –'

'I did not call you outside for that reason, Colonel. I called you outside because I could hear your voice even at this distance and I felt it was best to remove you from the situation before things got out of hand. Have you forgotten your promise to Colonel Carter that we would do our best to stay out of trouble?'

Now Teyla had broached the subject, Rodney felt brave enough to join in. 'She's right, Sheppard. I mean, we all know where you're coming from on this, but you weren't exactly Mr Affable in there. I never thought I'd say this, but you're making Sarayah look good!'

The anger those words aroused was all too clear to see as Sheppard's eyes flashed in his direction. Rodney gulped and backed off a step, wondering if he was about to get punched for the second time today.

'I was doing my best in there,' Sheppard growled. 'You saw how stubborn they are. They're in way over their heads with this and they won't even consider listening to me.'

'I don't know, Sheppard,' Ronon said, jumping in now. 'I think they were listening, they just don't seem worried.'

'So...what? Are you suggesting I should just give up and let her walk all over them?'

'I didn't say that,' the Satedan pointed out. 'But maybe you're not the best person to persuade them to keep their guard up.'

Teyla nodded. 'I agree. This matter between yourself and Sarayah has become too personal for you to deal with it in a rational way. It would be better if I were to –'

'No, absolutely not!'

Rodney was shocked to see real fear in Sheppard's eyes as he looked at Teyla. He really thought Sarayah might hurt her.

'You're not even here in your official team role, just a "tagging along for a day out" capacity, and believe me, if I'd had had any idea things would go this FUBAR, _you_ would still be sitting on your ass back at Atlantis.'

Now that didn't sound like the John Sheppard Rodney McKay knew, at least not the one he usually heard talking to Teyla. Sure, he'd used that tone with him before, but that was different; Rodney knew he had the ability to bring out the best and the worst in people, along with the uncanny knack of rubbing just about everyone up the wrong way without even trying. Teyla, on the other hand, was everyone's friend; he'd never heard Sheppard speak to her that way before. Relenting, Sheppard offered her an apology, which she graciously accepted.

'Why don't I go in there and handle things? Can't do much worse,' Ronon offered.

Though it was obvious he meant well, his choice of words clearly didn't sell the idea to Sheppard. 'No... I don't want you going near her. She'll probably decide you're her type, too. She likes 'em defiant.'

Knowing he was the only one who hadn't offered, Rodney figured it would look bad if he didn't join in, although he hoped Sheppard turned him down. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted when Sheppard answered him. 'No offence, but if we're at the point where we're relying on your people skills, Rodney, we're in serious trouble.'

Feeling hurt, Rodney thought about protesting, then realised it might buy him more trouble than he wanted if Sheppard had a change of heart, so clamped his mouth shut. It was then he noticed Sarayah staring out of the window, her eyes fixed firmly on Sheppard, and the faintest hint of a Mona Lisa smile touching on her lips. She was clearly getting a kick out of this, despite her show for the Frahs.

'Er...maybe we should take this outside of the village for a while,' he suggested, Teyla and Ronon swiftly adding their support to his idea.

'Fine. But I'm not changing my stance on this,' Sheppard told them, stalking away at a pace both Rodney and Teyla had trouble keeping up with.

The shade of the surrounding woodland seemed to help cool Sheppard's smouldering temper. A fine mist of rain had set in again, and though the cloying dampness only added to Rodney's misery, he was pleased not to be cooped up with the fruit loop and those Frah whackos anymore.

Sheppard lifted his face to the canopy, allowing the collecting moisture to drip down from the leaves onto his skin. The strain was still apparent in his expression, just as it had been for the past three months whenever he let his mask of calmness slip, and much as Rodney wanted to focus on how uncomfortable he felt himself right now, he found he really wanted to do something to alleviate the pressure Sheppard was under even more than he wanted that for himself.

'You know, maybe we should just leave these idiots to it. It's not like you haven't tried to tell them what Sarayah's like,' he ventured. 'Let's just find out if they know how to get the gate working and leave them to it.'

Sheppard sighed audibly. 'I can't do that, Rodney.'

'It seems we have little choice in the matter,' Teyla interjected. 'The Frahs have their beliefs and I'm not sure we have the right to tell them they are wrong.'

'Yeah...I seem to remember Elizabeth having a similar view about the people of Medulsa when we first met them,' Sheppard smirked.

'And perhaps she had a point, John. Your actions have certainly brought their own problems.'

Rodney felt the sting of those words almost as acutely as he felt sure Sheppard had. The colonel's jaw dropped in disbelief. 'Are you saying I've brought this on myself?'

Teyla held up her hands in a way clearly intended to show she meant no confrontation. 'Of course I am not saying that. I am merely trying to demonstrate that our actions all have consequences, and we have no idea what effect overriding these peoples' beliefs will have on the situation here...Besides, perhaps Sarayah has genuinely come here seeking sanctuary and a chance to repent...Should we really deny her if that is the case?'

Sheppard laughed, actually laughed out loud, at that suggestion. 'Oh, c'mon, Teyla. Sarayah may be happy to pull her weight for now, but how long do you think she'll be satisfied with doing the laundry and cooking the meals before Mrs Hyde finally makes her appearance?'

Rodney understood what he was alluding to, but the reference was clearly lost on their Pegasus friends.

Ronon wasn't fazed by that, and stepped in to back up Teyla's argument. 'I say we should wait until we know the 'gate is operational before we do anything. It's not like she's going anywhere.'

'And then what?' Teyla asked, apparently not finding his words as supportive as he'd clearly hoped. 'Are we really going to hold these peaceful people at gunpoint and force them to hand Sarayah over to us?'

'If necessary, yes,' Sheppard told her bluntly.

'And what if the Frahs resist?' she asked, pinning him with a fiercely questioning glare.

'Let's hope it doesn't come to that,' Sheppard said quietly, turning his back on them and leaning on a tree in a stiffly casual pose.

Rodney looked at the others, seeing their pinched expressions. He'd never seen Sheppard this angry before, never this determined to go against the wishes of his team in a way that could come back and bite them on their collective asses. This woman had got under his skin in the worst possible way, and Rodney had the feeling that, despite his best intentions, Sheppard was playing right into her hands and dividing the team in the process.

'Yes...let's hope,' he squeaked, pulling out his tablet and trying to lose himself in work again.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks so much for the great feedback I'm receiving on this story. It lets me know I'm getting things right. :D**

**Chapter 5 **

Major Evan Lorne was more of a "go to it" man than a "'take over command of the facility" guy, but he had his orders and he meant to fulfil the role to the best of his abilities. From the control room, he watched Colonel Carter lead her chosen team, comprising of Lorne's own troops plus three more of her own choice – two female – step through the gate to M3P-592 with an odd mixture of envy and relief. After spending the past three months hunting Sarayah down, he was ready for a rest from off-world activities, but the fact he'd just watched his exhausted team, plus a senior officer, head out to a planet where they might be marooned for at least ten days until the Daedalus made the planet's orbit left him desperate to snatch up his P-90 and head right after them.

Still, Colonel Carter had asked him to contact Medulsa to let them know Sarayah had been found, and he decided now was as good a time as any to give them the news. He ordered the attendant technician to dial up the Medulsan 'gate as soon as the connection to M67-982 shut down.

It was Alishia's voice that responded when they made the contact.

'Major Lorne. It's good to hear your voice again. I understood you were leading the hunt for Sarayah; do you have news?'

'Uh, yes. Yes we do, Ma'am. Sarayah has been located on a planet in the outer reaches of the Pegasus Galaxy.'

'You have apprehended her?' she asked hopefully.

Alishia clearly wasn't in the mood for unimportant details. Lorne rubbed the back of his neck, wording his reply carefully. 'Not exactly. My understanding is that she's on a planet where she has been granted sanctuary from her past crimes, so apprehending her is unfortunately proving more difficult than we'd anticipated.'

A moment of silence followed. 'Are you speaking of Guedeseo?' she asked, her voice suddenly low as if just speaking the word was taboo.

'I'm not sure,' he confessed. 'We didn't get the actual name of the planet yet, we just know Sarayah is living among a society of people who are reluctant to hand her over, but we're working on them.'

'Clearly you weren't a member of the party who discovered her.'

That seemed like an odd assumption for Alishia to make, so Lorne called her on it. 'Why do you say that?'

Another pause, then she gave him an answer he really didn't want to hear. 'Because no one returns from the place of judgment. No one.'

That didn't sound good, so he wasted no time in inviting her through to Atlantis to tell him what she knew.

oooOOOooo

Half an hour later, Alishia strode purposefully through the gate to the Ancestral city, her expression every bit as grave as the warning she had delivered. Major Lorne thanked her for joining him so quickly and took her to Colonel Carter's office where they could speak in privacy. Atlantis was a relatively small community and rumours could spread quickly, so if he could control the nature of said whispers until he understood the situation fully, he figured that had to be a good thi

Alishia spoke not a single word as they mounted the stairs from the gate room; this was apparently a most serious matter for the Medulsans, and if something had them worried, it worried him, too.

Remembering his manners, Lorne turned the seat opposite the desk slightly toward her as a sign she should take it, before slipping behind that unfamiliar desk himself. This wasn't a position he'd been expecting to take up today, nor was it one he felt entirely comfortable with. He hoped the news Alishia was bringing wouldn't make him regret Colonel Carter's orders.

'I want to know everything you know about this...Gues...Guen...'

'Guedeseo,' she corrected, not even nearing a smile, which was most out of character for her. 'The stories of that planet have been told among our people for centuries. We all know the ring symbols purported to lead there, but only to ensure we never dial them. A trip to Guedeseo should never be made lightly.'

'So, am I to assume it's not a good place?' Lorne clarified, cutting through the melodrama with his customary military cynicism.

'Actually, it is rumoured to be a peaceful community, run by a religious order known as The Frahs. It is a place where those who have committed acts so terrible they are shunned by their own societies can head to seek sanctuary, safe in the knowledge no one will follow them there to exact revenge.'

'Because the 'gate only works one way?'

She nodded. 'Once in Guedeseo, there is no way off the planet.'

'Well, we have Doctor McKay and Colonel Carter down there working on the problem. If anyone can get the 'gate working, they can,' Lorne said, feeling less concerned now he had all the facts at his disposal.

Alisha's face fell. 'Dr McKay? Please tell me Colonel Sheppard's team were not the ones to find Sarayah.'

The feeling of hope Lorne had experienced suddenly disappeared. 'Afraid so.'

'Then he and Sarayah are trapped there together on that planet!'

'We've sent through a couple of details to make sure she can't cause any trouble.'

Only now did she smile at all, but it was more a look of disbelief than anything resembling true amusement. 'And you think that will stop her?'

Lorne hadn't given it any more thought since the order had been Colonel Carter's, but Sarayah had wiped out a unit of Atrascans to get to Sheppard last time. Perhaps they were underestimating her, but with new contacts to be made since their move to M35-117, their troops were already spread thin. 'We can't afford to have any more people stranded off-world for ten days,' he told her, feeling suddenly inadequate.

'Ten days. And what happens then?'

'We have a ship headed that way. If they're still stranded on Guedeseo, it'll pick them up.'

Again, Alishia showed no sign of relief or happiness at his words, her face slackening in genuine horror. 'You should tell them to stay away.'

'Why?'

'As I said before, Guedeseo is a place not just of escape, but of judgment. Even the Wraith are afraid to go there. I have heard it told that entire Hive ships have been torn apart by the Divine One.'

'How'd you know that? I thought no one ever left the planet,' Lorne said, suppressing a smirk as he thought he'd spotted a flaw in her story.

'The destruction of the hive was witnessed by the crew of a Traveller ship many years ago. They had no knowledge of Guedeseo's reputation and claimed to have landed in the hope of striking up trade. While there, they witnessed the work of the Divine One first hand. It apparently took a man from their midst even as they met with the Frahs. Others on the planet, those not of the order, begged them to take them with them, but, if you know anything of the Travellers, you know they already struggle to house their race upon their aging ships as it is.'

'Yeah. We know a little about them,' Lorne confessed, though he suspected now was not the time to explain exactly how.

'They had to fight their way back to their vessel, only to find a Wraith Hive ship closing in on their position. Luckily, the Divine One saw fit to judge the Wraith, appearing suddenly and, breaking the Wraith hive's back, killing all on board.'

'So, there's some kind of weapon on that planet?' Lorne asked, trying to grasp exactly what she was telling him.

Alishia shook her head. 'The Frahs believe it is a divine entity, a powerful being who punishes those truly unrepentant of their misdeeds.'

Lorne's eyebrow twitched, but he hid his amusement at the thought. 'Well, sounds like he might be just exactly the kind of guy we need down there to keep Sarayah under control.'

'Perhaps, but I pity any of your kind who are not pure of spirit. Your people are warriors, men of violence. In times of war, many people commit acts they are not proud of. The divinity might not look too kindly upon them, either.'

Much as he doubted this thing Alishia spoke of was any kind of celestial being, Lorne decided to bring forward the next scheduled contact with Colonel Carter to ensure she had the full picture of what exactly she might be walking into, and just how big a problem leaving that planet might prove to be.

oooOOOooo

Having taken a time out to recover his composure, Sheppard had insisted he and the rest of his team return to the village to try once more to talk sense into the Frahs.

Frah Mussa welcomed them back into his house, instructing another man, Frah Lisso, to collect Sarayah from her chores so she could be present for the discussions. The slight man dipped his head in acknowledgement and tried to leave, stopping as Sheppard held up his hand to halt him.

'Actually, I'd prefer to speak with you alone for now,' Sheppard told Mussa, keeping his tone as light and as friendly as he could manage under the circumstances.

The refusal his request met with did little for his good humour, though. 'We have nothing to hide from one another in this community, Colonel Sheppard. If you have something to say about Sarayah, it is only fair she should hear it.'

Sheppard sighed, but accepted the decision. He would keep his presentation short and hope these do-gooders saw reason this time. If not, well, then they would fix the 'gate and hope no one got hurt when they insisted on removing Sarayah along with them.

Frah Lisso was heading toward the door to carry out his instruction when he stepped toward Teyla instead. 'Oh, wondrous! You are most blessed!' he gushed, gazing in admiration at Teyla's swollen stomach.

Teyla gave him a faint smile, her hand instinctively rising to protect the burgeoning life within her. John had noticed she did that a lot when people commented on her condition, as if it somehow shielded her child. Now, Sheppard really wished he'd put his foot down and insisted she stay on Atlantis until the kid was born, but, after a recent heart-to-heart in which she'd said she felt she was no longer part of his team, he'd thought it important to include her wherever possible. Of course, the Pegasus Galaxy was nothing if not unpredictable...why hadn't he foreseen the chance of stumbling into trouble?

'Yes...yes, I am,' she confirmed, her mouth twitching with the effort of keeping up her smile.

'I am always in awe of the wonder of new life,' the younger Frah prattled, his pale blue eyes still fixed on her stomach. 'May I touch it?'

Ronon moved so quickly the blond man's fingers had no chance of making contact before his hand was restrained. They all noticed now the deformity hidden by his long sleeves. The end joints of all four of the fingers on his left hand were missing.

Though also troubled by the man's behaviour, Sheppard threw Ronon a warning look and the Satedan released his grip on the Frah. The man immediately apologised and withdrew his hand into his oversized sleeve again.

'You have to understand that we like our personal space,' Sheppard explained, trying to excuse Ronon's aggression. 'We don't really approve of people we barely know touching us...even if the intention is innocent.'

'We will respect your choice from here on in,' Frah Mussa assured him. 'Frah Lisso. Sarayah.'

Frah Lisso nodded and dipped his head again in response to the repeated instruction, giving Teyla's stomach one last admiring glance as he headed out of the door.

Sheppard heard McKay draw breath to comment, so gave him a withering look, knowing it was unlikely to be anything helpful. The scientist closed his mouth, looked sheepish, and said nothing.

It took only a few moments for Frah Lisso to return with Sarayah. That figured; she wasn't exactly likely to drag her feet if it meant another opportunity to antagonise him. Sheppard watched her approach, but turned away from the door before she entered. He had no desire to lock eyes with his nemesis; the only thing he wanted to do was slap a set of restraints on her and get her the hell away from these people.

'Sarayah. Welcome again. It appears Colonel Sheppard feels there is more we should know of your past life. I thought it only fair you should be present to hear what he has to say.'

Sheppard made a silent promise to himself that this time he would not lose his cool. This time, he was determined to make a plausible and rational argument that even the Frahs couldn't argue with.

'I have already told you of my past role on Medulsa, Frah Mussa,' Sarayah said, her voice disguised by an unfamiliar delicate tone.

'But that isn't all these people need to know, is it?' Sheppard charged, still not looking her way in the hope it would help him remain calm. 'Did you mention the things you did that went above and beyond requirements?'

'I know what happened – your imprisonment under our laws – felt like an injustice to you, but haven't you punished me enough for my part in it?'

Despite all the promises to himself not to overreact he'd been repeating like a mantra in his head, he couldn't resist biting. 'And what's that supposed to mean?' he demanded, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since practically falling over her on the way into the village.

For the briefest of moments he saw a spark of satisfaction there, then she lowered her head, wringing her hands. 'Nothing...I'm sorry...I...I have said too much.'

Sheppard cast an exasperated yet silent plea for help toward his friends, but they all looked non-plussed by her behaviour.

'You have nothing to apologise for, Sarayah. You know you can speak freely in my home,' the Frah said gently.

She nodded and sniffed, as if fighting back tears.

Ironically, Sheppard couldn't stop the smirk that broke out on his face, even though he found nothing in the conversation amusing. 'Oh, please. You people aren't really gonna fall for this crap, are you?'

Frah Mussa arched a bushy eyebrow, the rest of his expression still frozen in indifference. 'As I have already told you, Colonel Sheppard, none of us are here to judge. Only the Divine One is permitted to do so.'

'Oh, here we go...' Rodney groaned.

'McKay,' Sheppard warned, although he felt pretty much as exasperated himself. Something about the demeanour of these people had told him they were a religious order, but he'd been hoping he was wrong. Religious people were very hard to dissuade from their views, however odd they were. He knew that from years of listening to his father's family's asinine and bigoted ramblings, which held very little in common with Christianity as he knew it, despite their Roman Catholic mantle.

'I sense you people are non-believers,' Frah Mussa said, but there was no condescension in the question, just a statement of fact.

'Really? Wherever did you get that idea?' Rodney drawled.

Sheppard gritted his teeth, and growled, 'Rodney, quit it!'

'No matter. The Divine One does not see lack of faith as a punishable crime to my knowledge,' the Frah told them.

'Well, I doubt very much we're the only non-believers here,' Sheppard assured him, shooting a look Sarayah's way. 'Which is exactly why you should turn that woman over to our custody.'

'And what will you do with her then?'

'Once we've fix a glitch with your Stargate, we plan to take her with us.'

The Frah's eyes widened, the closest to scepticism his expression had managed. 'You cannot force Sarayah to leave even if you fix this supposed 'glitch'. Who knows, if your consciences are clear the Divine One may see fit to let you leave this planet as you plan to, although you will be among the very few who ever have.'

That wasn't what he needed to hear right now. Almost afraid to ask, Sheppard said, 'What do you mean "the very few"?'

'In the thousands of years the divinity has been at work here, only a few people fortunate to arrive by ship have ever left. The journey to Guedeseo is a decision to give up all life as you have previously known it. I take it you didn't come here in the knowledge of this planet's role in the galaxy, Colonel?'

'No...no we didn't,' Sheppard said flatly, glaring back at McKay.

The scientist looked truly mortified by the revelation. 'Hey, this isn't my fault. There was nothing in the Ancient database about this.'

'Unless it was in that corrupted data you couldn't call up,' Sheppard pointed out.

Although he didn't believe there was a supreme being governing the inhabitants of this strange world, Frah Mussa's words gave the colonel pause for thought. He had committed acts in his past, usually out of some sense of necessity, which could be classed as morally questionable. If he were ever really judged, what would the outcome be? He glanced back at Rodney again, the man who had destroyed four fifths of a solar system due to his pure arrogance, and saw him wearing a similarly contemplative expression. And though he was almost certain Teyla had always done the right thing by anyone's standards, Sheppard was pretty sure Ronon's past meant he, too, had been forced to make difficult and dubious decisions that may well have had devastating consequences for others.

'I wish to make a full confession of my transgressions against the colonel,' Sarayah suddenly announced, stepping forward beside him.

Frah Mussa leaned forward on his elbows, knitting his gloved fingers together on top of his desk. 'Speak up, Sarayah. Have no fear.'

_This should be good for a few laughs, _Sheppard thought, folding his arms and resting them on the butt of his P-90. He caught the look the Frah gave it, but he was damned if he was going to let Mussa and his goons melt it down with Sarayah and who knew how many other criminals on the loose in the community.

'I did inflict terrible suffering on Colonel Sheppard when he was taken prisoner on my home planet. He broke one of our fundamental laws – a foolish law I now realise – but at the time it was my duty to compel him to behave in accordance with our rules. The colonel rebelled against us, and as a result his punishment was harsher than I had ever given before.'

Mussa listened dispassionately, not a flicker of either sympathy or disgust even flitting across his features. 'Is there any more you would like to tell us, Sarayah?'

'Yeah, is there?' Sheppard asked, cocking his head to one side quizzically, wondering just how much detail she was prepared to go into.

Noticing his injury for the first time, Sarayah's eyes remained fixed to the congealing blood above his eyebrow. 'You have been hurt.'

Her hand twitched at her side and he instinctively took a step away from her. 'Don't even think about it.'

Her arm fell limp again, and she bowed her head in a plausible demonstration of shame.

'Sarayah was only showing concern,' Frah Mussa advised him.

'Maybe she was,' Sheppard muttered, realising that at some point during the exchange his hand had slipped onto his gun, his finger resting on the trigger. 'But who are we to judge?'

'It is all right, Frah,' Sarayah all but whispered, bowing her head in a show of submission. 'He sees me as beneath his status. He does not wish me to contaminate him.'

'I _what_?' Sheppard demanded, raising his voice now despite his mental assertions that he wouldn't. 'You know that's not the problem I have with you. Just what kind of scheme are you pulling here?'

'You deny that you consider me less sophisticated...less pure than you?' she asked, her hangdog expression damn near driving him to strangle her. 'You are a direct descendant of the Ancestors; I am merely their...creation.'

'I have _never _said I'm better than you.'

'You do not have to say it. I see it in your eyes. I saw it in them when you did this to me.' She pulled back her sleeve and displayed numerous healed over wounds running diagonally across her left forearm and hand. Someone had done a real job on her, but it sure as hell hadn't been him.

'Why are you doing this? You know I didn't do that to you. And these people have already said they won't judge us on our past behaviour, so what the hell do you think any of this accomplishes?' he growled, narrowing his eyes at her.

For just a fleeting second, he saw the telltale hardness flash into her eyes before she could mask it. It had been too brief, too well concealed, for anyone else to notice, but he'd seen it; there was no mistaking that look.

'I want you to confess, Colonel Sheppard...for this and the other unspeakable things you did to me in retribution. You have to feel remorse or the Divine One –'

Behind him, the rest of his team protested his innocence, but despite their support Sheppard's best intentions and self-control abandoned him. He rounded on Sarayah, his gun still clutched and aimed at her. 'The only one who has ever tried to do 'unspeakable things' as you call them is you. So maybe _you _should confess to that little kink before the _Divine One _comes calling on _you_.'

She shrank away from him, pretending to quiver with fear. 'Please...do not hurt me.'

Something inside him snapped at that point; he actually felt it go. What was it? Patience, control – his sanity? His grip on the gun flew to her throat and he rammed her into the wall. 'Just stop this! Tell them the truth!'

'Colonel Sheppard! Stand down!'

Sheppard could hardly believe it was actually Sam's voice cutting through the oppressive silence surrounding him and the woman whose lips were currently turning blue under the pressure of his hand. It had the effect of snapping him instantly back to his senses. That had sounded like an order. He had to obey.

He let go, leaving Sarayah wheezing against the wall as he turned to face his superior officer. 'Colonel Carter. What are you doing here?'

And it wasn't just Carter, but Dr Keller to, both of them standing in the doorway of Frah Mussa's home with eyes huge as saucers and mouths hung agape.

Frah Mussa had risen from his seat as if to act, and now hurried around his table to ascertain Sarayah's well-being.

Frah Lisso stepped around Sam and forged into the room. 'Frah Mussa, these people are friends of our visitors.'

'Then it seems they have arrived at a most fortuitous time,' Mussa replied, cradling a now trembling Medulsan in his arms.

'Frah...is it possible to have protection tonight?' Sheppard heard her whisper to the man, adding further fuel to his already well-stoked fires. He clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from doing anything stupid again.

'Of course. I will post two of my compatriots outside your door while you sleep to ensure there is no repetition of this.'

'That's fine by me,' Sheppard hissed. 'I don't want anything more to do with her anyway.'

Carter stepped forward now, positioning herself between Sheppard and both the Frah and his charge. 'Colonel Sheppard, I'll be taking over negotiations with the Frah from here on in. I think you should go outside and let Jennifer check your injury.'

Much as being prodded and poked around didn't appeal to him right now, he could tell from Sam's posture and tone that she wasn't about to take no for an answer. A quick glance at his team confirmed they looked pretty much as shocked as Carter and Keller. Teyla did manage a sympathetic smile as he strode past her, but that didn't please him much either.

He had just stepped out into the damp air when he heard a voice call his name. It was Sarayah.

Jennifer had followed him out and now stood between them, her eyes still round as he instantly tensed. He thought about ignoring Sarayah, but figured he'd caused enough trouble by assaulting her already. So he waited impatiently for the next unfettered heap of provocative garbage to tumble from her lips.

'I know a lot of terrible things have happened between us in the past,' she said, Frah Mussa now closing in behind her and resting his hand on her shoulder as if she needed his strength to continue. 'But I hope you can find it in your heart to put it all behind us and begin again, just as I have. I really would still like us to be friends, John. I want that more than anything.'

And then she smirked, her eyes hardening because she knew only he and Jennifer could see her.

Sheppard glanced at the doctor, who had now moved on from looking shocked to completely horrified. Clearly, she knew exactly what that statement meant, too.

They heard raised voices inside the building, Ronon and Rodney's voices, and others, Sam and Teyla's, trying to calm the situation. This was about as messed up as it could be, and that was pretty much all down to him.

'Frah Lisso, I think Sarayah has heard all she needs to now. Would you please escort back to her chores?' Frah Mussa asked, and the Frah did just that, taking her out of sight, until Sam stepped to the door and ordered four of the troops she'd brought with her to follow them. The brief look she gave Sheppard before ducking back into Frah Mussa's house spoke volumes about how disappointed she was in him, but he doubted it was a patch on how disappointed he felt in himself.

When he turned again, Jennifer was pulling on a pair of latex gloves, ready to treat him.

Keeping it as polite as he could, he said. 'D'you mind if we do this later? I really need to clear my head.'

He heard her call his head once as he walked away, but she didn't try to stop him, and for that much he was extremely grateful.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So you guys don't like Sarayah, huh? Thanks for all the reviews and venting! If you hate her that much it means my depiction of her has been pretty successful. :)**

**Chapter 6 **

Much as she wanted to like him, Sam found Frah Mussa's attitude frustratingly apathetic. She couldn't have laid the situation out any clearer if she'd drawn him diagrams, yet the man remained completely unconcerned by the information she brought to him. Nothing she did would convince him Sarayah's presence in his community posed a formidable threat, and even when she tried the angle that Sarayah needed to be medicated for her own good, he would have none of it. She also decided if he told her one more time that Sarayah's fate lay in the hands of the Divine One, the Medulsan wouldn't be the only one having her throat squeezed. Much as she'd been furious to see Colonel Sheppard behaving so aggressively on her arrival, she was beginning to understand how he might have been pushed to do so.

Excusing herself from his presence, she took a moment to step outside and join the others, taking a break from the overwhelming ennui. Spotting Sheppard's team perched on the brick well at the centre of the square and talking with Dr Keller, she decided even McKay's company was preferable to that of the Frah right now. She strode over to join them, only then realising Sheppard wasn't anywhere in the vicinity.

'Where's Colonel Sheppard?'

'Went for a walk,' Ronon told her, thumbing over his shoulder toward the woodland behind him.

'Alone?' she clarified.

'I told them to leave him for the time being,' Jennifer advised her. 'You have a detail watching Sarayah, and we contacted him by radio and he's fine. He just needs some breathing space. I imagine being stuck here with Sarayah and no obvious escape route is pretty tough on him.'

Carter immediately activated her radio. 'Lieutenant Michaels, can you confirm you have Sarayah in your sights?'

'Yes, Ma'am,' the officer instantly replied. 'She's right here on the east side of the village tending vegetables.'

'Tending vegetables...well that doesn't sound much like the Sarayah we know and loathe,' Rodney quipped from over his folded arms. 'What next, flower arranging...or perhaps a spot of origami?'

'Somehow, I doubt that,' Sam sighed. 'So, is anyone buying this repentance act she has going here?'

'Are you kidding?' Keller snorted. 'You heard what she said to the colonel when she left that building; she wants them to be friends – isn't that the euphemism she used last time when she meant...'

'Yes...yes it is,' Sam interrupted.

'And you guys didn't see the look she gave him. I did – and I'm telling you that's one seriously obsessed woman!'

'And he's stuck here with her,' Sam breathed, her skin crawling as she recalled her own experiences with Fifth once again.

'Correction. We're all stuck here with her,' Rodney pointed out. 'Sheppard might be her main target, but I'm pretty sure she'd get a kick out of hurting any one of us.'

Sam tucked an errant tendril of hair behind her ear and looked back toward the building she'd just vacated. Frah Mussa was leaning in the doorway, watching them impassively, his expression completely unreadable. Carter didn't trust people whose expressions were completely unreadable; no one was that detached from their feelings.

'I should speak with John,' she mused, looking toward the tree line Ronon had indicated. She'd not worked with him for long, but she'd never known Sheppard to lose control in the manner she'd witness in Frah Mussa's dwelling. He had to be wound up pretty tight to react that way, and she wanted him to know that, although she couldn't officially condone his behaviour, she did understand.

'If you want my opinion, you should let him come back when he's ready,' Jennifer advised her. 'He'll be far more receptive if you give him as much time as he needs to cool off first.'

Nodding, Sam allowed herself to be guided by Keller's opinion. 'Yeah, you're probably right. I have to confess. I'm beginning to understand his frustration. We have a responsibility to help clean up this mess, but I really don't think these guys are gonna budge on the Sarayah issue.'

'That's because they think the Divine One will ultimately judge her,' Rodney smirked.

Sam felt her hackles rise at his use of those words, but satisfied herself with imagining throttling Rodney for the time being. It wasn't his fault she'd had a gut-full of those words already. 'Well, unfortunately, we all know that's not likely to happen, so we need to keep at this. I plan to have one last try at talking him round, perhaps with your help, Jennifer. After that, I think it's down to you and me fixing that 'gate, McKay.'

'Or until the Daedalus arrives,' Rodney reminded her.

Carter grimaced. In all the chaos she'd had to deal with on her arrival, she'd forgotten to update them with Alishia's information. 'Actually...the Daedalus might not be able to come to the rescue after all...'

oooOOOooo

If it weren't for the psycho waiting for him back in the village, Sheppard decided he could get used to this place. The fine drizzle of rain on his face was actually quite refreshing, as he stretched out on a fallen trunk, feet planted on the forest floor either side of it to steady himself and hands clasped behind his head. He stared up into the grey sky through a sizable gap in the canopy and wondered what was going on back at the village, in particular whether Sam was having any more luck convincing the Frahs to cooperate than he had managed.

He supposed there were positives to his situation, unlike the previous times he and Sarayah had clashed, although there were quite a few cons, too. At least this time he wasn't alone with her. She'd laid her cards on the table with that last comment, all right, but he had several marines and his team around him to keep her at bay, and he was pretty sure even she would have difficulty getting past Ronon.

He supposed he should make his way back to Frah Mussa's house and offer his apologies to keep the natives on side, but after losing his cool twice now, he doubted they would be interested in listening him. Why Sarayah wanted them to think he was dangerous had him worried; it smelled of one of her devious plans, and that left an uneasy feeling sitting in his churning guts. Still, the Guedeseans appeared to be peaceful, so it was unlikely she could use them against him, especially since they apparently didn't judge people. Yeah, right! Like it was even possible not to form an opinion on people. They just weren't allowed to act on their judgments; that didn't mean they didn't make them. And right now, they thought he was some kind of violent sex fiend, especially after his latest outburst. Great. How had he managed to walk right into that trap? Because he didn't open up. If he'd told his version first, maybe Sarayah would be the one on the receiving end of all the accusing looks. Dammit! No matter what he did around that woman, she always seemed to get the upper hand.

He was hungry now, so hunted through his pockets for a power bar before remembering he'd already eaten the one he'd had with him while stomping around and working off his excess rage. He supposed that meant he had to head back to the village to get some more...but he wasn't ready for that just yet. He could cope with hunger for a while longer if it meant not having to face up to his stupidity.

Sitting up with a sigh, he decided to walk it off some more. Although he knew he had to go back and face Carter's wrath and the doctor's ministrations soon, he figured another ten minutes couldn't make matters much worse. Maybe Sam would cut him some slack due to the mitigating circumstances. Either that or she'd chew him another one, and he honestly wouldn't blame her if she did. Why the hell had he let her get under his skin that way?

As he walked on, some strangely pungent flowering shrubs assaulted his senses. The scent was almost overwhelming and made his head feel light as he got closer to them. Dotted amid the flowers were wild berries, varying in colour from deep olive green right through to a startling vermillion. Some had fallen to the ground and popped beneath his boots as he approached the perfumed bushes. Hungry as he was, he knew better than to pick the fruit. Never eat the indigenous foodstuffs until you're certain they're safe. It was a fundamental rule of 'gate travel...any kind of travel really...and one he hadn't broken yet.

He found his mind wandering now to everything that had happened since he'd last seen Sarayah; losing Carson, Elizabeth, Dr Heightmeyer, all of which he felt at least partially responsible for. And on top of that, he'd formed an uneasy alliance with the very Wraith who had stolen his life force in Kolya's warehouse prison. And then, of course there was what had happened with Kolya himself; he'd felt great satisfaction taking that man's life, knowing the bastard wouldn't be lurking around any more corners waiting to pounce on him or his team. Add to that his piece de resistance, persuading a man to give up his life to save Rodney's sister, and he had to wonder just what kind of a man he'd become since travelling to the Pegasus Galaxy. He knew he'd been sailing pretty close to the wind on that one, and the sight of Henry Wallace withering before his eyes would haunt him for the rest of his days. He'd forced himself to watch because he'd figured if he thought it was the right thing to do, the least he could do was be there for the man as he died. His chest ached with the memory of his own experience, and he rubbed the now long-healed wound, knowing it was only a residual memory of his torture, not actual pain. If there really was some kind of divine power at work on this planet, he figured he was pretty much screwed. Atlantis suddenly seemed much further than a 'gate jump away.

That was when he felt it again – a strange tingling in his skin. The follicles on his arms stood on end and his hair bristled. It was the same feeling he'd experienced the previous night, right before the electrical anomaly. Oh great, he was about to get struck by lightning alone in the middle of a forest. That would cap his day off real nice.

He heard the rushing sound, felt the static, the forest brightened, but this time couldn't see the anomaly itself. The damn thing was close, but hidden amongst all those trees. It was over as quickly as it began, the brief illumination failing in an instant. He was aware of creaking and cracking, leaves falling all around him, and then something knocked him to the ground so hard he had absolutely no idea what had hit him...

Wet...dirt...the smell of those heady flowers...his shirt sticking to his chest and his trousers to his legs. Something was wrong, but at first he couldn't quite work out what it was. Then, he realised he was on the ground, face down in the sodden vegetation. _Gotta get up! Gotta move. _But he couldn't move. Something was holding him down.

As he became gradually more aware of his situation he realised he was soaked through with rain, his mouth was full of leaves and earth and his left arm lay pinned by a fallen tree, the lighter branches of which rested across him in a prickly blanket. For a moment or two he thought his arm was basically okay, just stuck, but then the pain kicked in and he knew it was more than that.

'Oh, crap,' he breathed, trying to free himself from the tangle of tree limbs and roll the damned thing off him with his other arm, but the tree was having none of it. He couldn't turn himself enough to get purchase with a foot either, because that movement hurt too much. With no other option left to him, he radioed for help.

'_It's all right, John. We heard the trees falling. We're almost with you,'_ Sam replied when he made the call, and it turned out she wasn't kidding. In a matter of seconds Sam, Keller, and his team burst in on the scene and rushed to his aid.

Keller knelt beside him as Ronon sought out one of the bigger fallen branches in the area to use as leverage to free him. To his relief, he was released in a matter of minutes, but his arm ached like fury. The doctor carefully removed his watch and carried out a quick check, confirming that although she couldn't feel a definite break his ulna had most likely sustained a hairline fracture. Applying a temporary splint and sling, plus a shot of pain meds from her kit soon made it seem like a lot of fuss about nothing, but Keller insisted he let them support him back to the village all the same, Ronon doing the honours while McKay followed on, frantically taking readings to ensure the electrical storm had moved on again.

'Did you see that tree?' he jabbered. 'It was like...like a section of it just disappeared. No wonder the thing fell on him – there was nothing holding the top half up!'

Seeing his condition – torn shirt and trousers and his arm strapped against his chest – several of the Frahs came running to assist as they entered the village, guiding Sheppard and the others to a building they used as a basic infirmary and showing him to a clean bed. Teyla joined them there, having not been able to run quickly enough to help in the woods.

'John, are you all right? What happened?'

Sheppard let the others explain, too roughed up and dazed to speak for himself. He felt Teyla's hand resting on his right arm the whole time, giving him unspoken reassurance, and for a brief moment he allowed himself to admit he was glad she was there, even if it was an entirely selfish thought.

After assuring the Frahs that Sheppard had suffered nothing more serious than a minor fracture and abrasions, Keller managed to hustle their concerned hosts back out of the room so they could talk in private.

'Can you remember exactly what happened, Colonel?' she asked, examining his eyes with her penlight to reassure herself he didn't have a concussion.

He squinted against it, his eyes stinging a little, but let her do her thing. 'I was walking out there in the woods when I got the same feeling we got last night right before the anomaly appeared. I heard it, but couldn't see it, then the next thing I know I'm face down under a damn tree.'

'We saw three trees taken down on our way to you, Colonel,' Sam advised him. 'It obviously hit pretty hard. You're lucky you weren't standing directly under any of them.'

'Yeah, lucky, that's just how I feel,' he snorted, sliding his hand away from Teyla's and pinching the bridge of his nose, blinking to clear the blurs Keller's light had left on his retinas.

'Trust me, it could've been a lot worse,' she told him. Then, she quipped. 'This is a pretty drastic way to get out of a reprimand, you know.'

He grimaced. 'Yeah, about earlier...'

'Your apology's accepted, Colonel. After an hour of trying to deal with Frah Mussa myself, I'm beginning to understand how you felt. Just...try not to let it happen again.'

'I'll try,' he promised, as the door creaked open and the man himself stepped inside. 'I have just heard about your unfortunate incident, Colonel Sheppard. I wanted to make sure you are all right?'

'He will be,' Jennifer assured him. 'It's just a hairline fracture, nothing too serious...as long as he doesn't try using it too much.' The look she gave Sheppard as she said that told him she suspected he wouldn't cooperate. He figured she was probably right.

'That is good to hear. You may have use of our hospital for as long as you need. The Frahs are well versed in the medicinal herbs of this planet, so if you need anything –'

'Oh, there's really no need for us to take up this bed any longer,' Keller assured him. 'Other than the fracture and his earlier bump to the head, the colonel's in good shape.'

'I see. Do you know what happened, Colonel?' he enquired.

Sheppard shrugged. 'Freak weather. Lightning struck some trees out in the woods and one fell my way.'

'Lightning? You saw the Divine One?' the Frah gasped.

Sheppard couldn't help but notice that the Frah's eyes darted down to his hands, before rising back to his face. He thought it odd, but then, most things about Frah Mussa's behaviour seemed odd to him. 'I don't think so –'

'This is not the first time you've been in contact with him and survived,' the Frah continued, undaunted by Sheppard's denial. 'I believe these are warnings, Colonel. It is time for you to contemplate your life so far and decide whether you need to repent...before it is too late.'

That hit Sheppard hard. He had been thinking those things over only moments before the anomaly struck. Should he be giving this belief in judgment more credence after all?

'Would you give the man a break?' he heard Rodney protest in his defence. 'He's just narrowly avoided being fried and crushed – he doesn't need the added pressure of your religious mumbo jumbo right now.'

The Frah looked at Rodney patiently, then shifted his attention to Sam, whom he clearly knew was in charge of the visiting party. 'We have prepared several rooms for you and your friends to use during your stay with us. If you are ready, I will show you to them, then perhaps tomorrow we can discuss the terms of your stay here.'

'That's very kind, Frah Mussa,' Sam smiled, although it wasn't her most genuine effort. 'I think we're ready now.'

Ronon wouldn't take no for an answer as Sheppard slid off the bed, insisting on supporting him again. In truth, Sheppard was glad to have his friend there; his legs felt weaker than he would have liked and he didn't really want to fall down in front of everyone. As he looked out of the window, he spotted Sarayah, carrying a large basket of freshly picked vegetables, watching him through the opening. As soon as his eyes met hers she moved on, and he decided to let it go without comment. People were already convinced he was paranoid. No need to give them any more proof.

The rooms in the building Frah Mussa led them to were plain but clean, the furniture basic and functional, with four bunks in each separate dormitory. That was probably for the best; sleeping alone with Sarayah hovering around really didn't appeal to him. Safety in numbers, wasn't that the old adage?

When they walked in, a young woman was sweeping the floors clean of dust. She dipped her head and made herself scarce as they entered to choose their beds. Sheppard and his team bunked together in one room, Sam and Jennifer in the next with the other troops splitting themselves between the other three rooms – one in with Carter and the doctor and three in each of the other rooms.

Sam thanked Frah Mussa for his kindness once again, her tone suggesting she now expected privacy. He ducked out to allow them to settle in.

Sheppard sat down, bouncing a little on the mattress and discovering more aches in his body that hadn't revealed themselves to him previously. Great, by tomorrow he would feel like an eighty-year-old – but at least Keller was here to keep him dosed up on Tylenol if necessary.

'How are you feeling, John?' Teyla asked, dropping her pack on the bunk she had chosen for herself, then sitting beside him. 'You look a little flushed.'

'I'm good,' he told her. Which wasn't too much of a lie because right now, with them around him and the knowledge the Frahs would be at Sarayah's door tonight, he figured he was safe enough. 'But I'll feel a damn sight better when the Daedalus gets here.'

'About that...' Sam began, and he realised from all their expressions that his hopes for rescue were about to be dashed.

'Okay, what happened to the plan?' he demanded.

'We have information that suggests the Daedalus might be damaged if she comes within the planet's atmosphere. She's still on course, and I'll ask Colonel Caldwell to act should the situation here deteriorate, but I'm not willing to risk losing her and all hands unless I feel we have no other option,' Carter explained.

'You have information? From what source?'

'Alishia. It seems when Major Lorne updated her on what was happening here she recognised the description of the planet and informed him of something here that is powerful enough to take out a Hive ship.'

Knowing Alishia wasn't prone to exaggeration, Sheppard figured Sam had made the right call. It didn't, however, do anything to assuage the wave of disappointment that engulfed him at the thought that their stay might be longer than expected.

'Great!' He flung himself back on the bed, wincing when his arm throbbed a reminder that he should be less energetic in his movements. 'So now both of Atlantis' commanding officers are stranded off world. Not exactly ideal is it?'

'No, but since I have more understanding of 'gate technology than anyone else on Atlantis, I thought it was logical for me to come through. Besides, Major Lorne is more than capable of holding the fort for ten days...and it's not like we're completely incommunicado. We can still talk to him whenever he dials through.'

All that was true, but he would still have tried to persuade her not to come if he'd known she was considering it. Covering his eyes with his remaining good hand, he tried not to think of the dozens of ways Sarayah could pick everyone off, one-by-one, until they were they only two people left. He was just being paranoid again. Everything was under control, although he did feel pretty hot...

'I'm sorry, John. I wish I could say this was going to be simple, but I respect you too much to patronise you. Anyhow, since the Daedalus looks like it might have to be Plan B, Rodney and I should get working on the newly reinstated Plan A,' Sam said, picking up her pack and clipping it on. 'C'mon, McKay. Let's go get that 'gate up and running.'

'Maybe we should come with,' Sheppard offered, sitting up again as quickly as his arm and now rapidly progressing stiffness would allow.

'No, I want you and the rest of your team to stay here,' Sam ordered, helping McKay to hitch up his pack when she saw him struggling. 'You and Teyla should probably get some rest, and Ronon, I want you to make sure they do. I'll take Lorne's team; they can cover us while we work.'

'I will,' the Satedan promised her earnestly.

No doubt recognising the sheer frustration in John's expression, Sam clapped her hand on his shoulder. 'We'll fix this, John. Just hang in there.'

'Looks like we don't have much choice,' he quipped, watching her lead the others out. Suspecting it wasn't likely to be a quick job, he suggested Teyla should stretch out for a while, then did the same himself, hoping the fresh headache now brewing behind his eyes would be gone before he woke up again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

'I've just received word from the Daedalus. They're continuing on their course and should be here in just over nine days at their current speed, maybe a little sooner of they really push it,' Lorne advised Carter on their next scheduled communication.

'_I'd prefer them not to do anything that might jeopardise their flight. Much as I would like them to be here sooner, since we only plan to use them in an extreme emergency, arriving in one piece would definitely be preferable.'_

'Yes, Ma'am,' Lorne agreed. 'I've updated Colonel Caldwell on the information from Alishia, but he insists that if the situation requires their intervention, he and his crew are prepared to move into range of the planet and beam you out of there.'

'_That's good to hear, Major. Give him our thanks, but hopefully it won't come to that.'_

'How are Colonel Sheppard and his team holding up?'

'_Not good actually. The colonel had an altercation with a tree and fractured his arm. He's resting back at the village while Rodney and I try to figure out this 'gate malfunction.'_

That was odd. Lorne had been expected news of problems with Sarayah, not difficulties with the local flora. 'An altercation with a tree? I had no idea nature could be so disagreeable.'

'_To be frank, it could have been worse, but thankfully, when it fell on him, it only pinned his arm. Jennifer thinks the fracture is pretty minor and should heal quickly if he keeps it immobile,'_ she told him, leaving him none the wiser.

Lorne winced at the thought. That had to hurt. 'Should I even ask why the tree was falling?'

'_Courtesy of the anomaly McKay reported,' Sam replied. 'Although, the locals here have quite a different theory about it.'_

'I guess that's the divine being theory,' Lorne smirked.

'_That's the one,'_ Carter confirmed. _'Anyway, much as the Frahs may believe the Divine One is out to judge us all, McKay and I suspect there's a slightly more scientific cause, something similar to the earth lights seen back home...except a far more extreme version. Perhaps if we ever figure out how to get the 'gate working, we'll send a team back to study it.I expect we'd find recurring geological characteristics such as significant faulting, seismic history, mineral deposits or bodies of water...all the significant factors of tectonic stress. Light anomalies are pretty common around those kinds of features back on Earth...although I've never known one strong enough to take out a jumper engine pod before...'_

'Sounds fascinating,' Lorne replied, thinking it sounded anything but. He only grasped half of what Carter and McKay talked about at the best of times. That just sounded like more science that would go way over his head. 'I bet McKay's itching to wrap his brain cells round it.'

Sam's voice dropped in volume slightly. _'Actually, I think he'd prefer it if it wasn't here at all.'_

'Must have a guilty conscience,' the major quipped.

'_Must have. Anyway, I'd better get back to work since this 'gate problem isn't about to solve itself. I'll update you in another three hours._

'Roger that. Atlantis out.'

Lorne watched the shimmering portal fade, and found himself wishing he was there helping out...though not with the science. Sheppard had to be going nuts down there with Sarayah hanging around and no jurisdiction to restrain her – he knew he would be. And his team were there, three good men whom he'd built a strong bond with and felt he would trust with his life. If anything happened to them...well...they were friends as well as colleagues now. That kind of thing couldn't be replaced by shipping in new personnel. That took time.

With heavy legs, he trudged back up to Colonel Carter's office and sat down at the desk. It didn't suit him, not this kind of command post. His strength lay in combat and peacekeeping, not co-ordinating and administrating. He wished Carter had sent him through instead of going to Guedeseo herself, but he figured it was better she was there since he knew next to nothing about 'gate technology or light anomalies. No, Colonel Carter was the best person to be there, that was certain. So, all he could do was sit patiently by and help where he could. It was a pity patience wasn't one of his strengths either.

oooOOOooo

Leaden eyelids dragged open, but the room seemed strangely dim somehow – not dark exactly, more ...undefined. Voices, disjointed, panicky, surrounded him speaking to each other...or to him...he couldn't tell. Where the hell was he? He was sick, he could tell that much from the sweat beading on his forehead and running down his temples, and the faint smell of vomit...along with something worse. _Oh man, tell me I haven't..._

'Doc! Doc! He's wakin' up!' _Too loud..._

'Colonel...Colonel Sheppard, can you hear me?'

His lids began to slide shut, but slim fingers sharp as knives pushed them back open, shining a penetrating light into his stinging irises. He snatched his head away, which she obviously took as evidence of his consciousness.

'Colonel...John...it's Doctor Keller, can you talk to me?'

'Gonna...puke!' And with that, what felt like the entire contents of his stomach and then some projected out at high speed. He heard the splatter as it hit the wooden floor, and a groan from the doctor. He wanted to feel bad about it, he really did, but he just didn't have the energy.

'Wha's wr...wrong...with me,' he panted, as his stomach cramped and his body curled.

'Can someone get this cleaned up please!' Keller ordered. 'All right, Colonel. I need you to focus for me. I need you to try to remember anything unusual you might have eaten today.'

An eruption of what felt like volcanic lava, rushed into his mouth again, and he had no hope of containing it. Keller managed to side step this time, leaning in to gently rub his back as if that would be some kind of comfort.

It wasn't; her touch felt like hot pokers through his shirt. He groaned and flinched away, before curling once again against the crippling cramps. As if to add to his torture, someone pressed a cold rag to his forehead, making the ache inside his skull increase ten-fold.

'Colonel, can you tell me if you've eaten anything unusual today...something the rest of us haven't eaten.'

He couldn't think of anything, literally couldn't think at all, because the pain raging in his abdomen was so all encompassing.

'How the hell did she get to him? You people were supposed to be watching her,' he heard Ronon growl, but he couldn't stop heaving long enough to set him straight. She hadn't got to him...at least not to his knowledge...

'Hey, we don't know what's happened yet. Let's focus on what's important here.' That was Keller, and he didn't think he had ever heard her sound so firm before.

Small hands took hold of his face, and he drew back his lids to find Teyla gazing down at him, her eyes moist and filled with fear. 'John, please, you have to tell us if you have eaten or drunk anything other than your normal rations.'

Her hands burned into his cheeks, scalding his flesh. Why did people keep touching him? Couldn't they see how much it hurt?

Another voice. Further away. Frah Mussa. 'Did you eat any berries from the woodland, Colonel?'

'Fe...fell in...some,' he grunted through his gritted teeth.

'Meritza, quickly, fetch the serum,' the Frah ordered. 'It is possible he absorbed the juice of the lantha berry through his skin lacerations. It is terribly poisonous.'

Discussion erupted around him, only small parts of which Sheppard caught between bouts of retching and gagging on his own saliva, which seemed to have gone into an alarming rate of overproduction. He was hot, so hot; he just wanted fresh air, then he'd feel okay...that was all he needed.

Unfortunately, no one else seemed to agree with that theory, and when he tried to roll off the bed toward the door, searing hands grabbed him and pushed him back onto the burning hot mattress.

'Need...air!' he gasped.

'Your throat has constricted from the poison in your system, Colonel,' Keller said, speaking slowly and clearly as if she thought he'd sustained some kind of brain damage. 'Going outside won't make it feel any better. Just lie still and let us help you.'

That was far easier said than done...especially when his entire body began to spasm involuntarily. And...oh crap, did it hurt. It felt like his muscles were being twisted up and wrung out, over and over.

He arched his back against the pain, more hands grabbing his arms and legs and pinning him to the bed, while panic laced voices screamed instructions over him as if he wasn't there. They were scared, that much filtered through, but he hurt too much to feel any fear himself.

Then he saw her, right there amidst everyone else.

Sarayah.

She was touching him, holding his legs, her eyes drilling into him and drinking up his torment.

'NO! NO! Get...get her...off me!' he yelled, trying to pull free from her grip, but finding he had little to no control over his body.

'Who is he talking about?' _Mussa._

'I think he may be hallucinating.' Keller...or maybe Teyla, it was hard to tell now with the blood rushing in his ears, but definitely female.

'Can't you do something for him?' _Big guy with snakes for hair. Crap_. The guy had snakes for hair! A seething mass of them, snapping their venomous jaws at him. He flinched away, avoiding their hideously sharp fangs.

'John, hold it together, you know that isn't real.' _Elizabeth? But isn't she...?_

'_Dead. Yes she is...and you're going to join her.'_ _Crazy bitch talking._ She was holding his shoulders now, pinning him flat, staring straight into his face.

'Get...her...off...me!'

'Sarayah isn't here, John. You are among friends.' Teyla's voice, but Sarayah's face. Wait, now there were two of them...no four...Everyone in the room looked like her. How was she doing that?

He thrashed against the sweat soaked, flaming mattress beneath him, trying to gain purchase with his feet and lever himself from her grip, all seven of her, every one of them grinning at him...taunting him because he was too weak to fight...always too weak...

'_Always too weak,'_ they hissed in unison with his thoughts.

'No! Lemme go! Get y'r han's off of me!'

'John. Please be still, you're hurting yourself.' _Teyla._ Why couldn't he see her?

'Teyla!'

'I am here, John.'

A hand took hold of his, burning the skin from his palm, but the face that leaned toward him wasn't hers.

'Get away from me, you bitch!'

He tried to snatch his hand free and take a swipe at her, but someone caught hold of him, their grip searing his skin like a hot metal cuff around his wrist. Sarayah's face morphed and changed momentarily to that of Teyla and back again, twisting, changing, until he didn't know who he was looking at anymore.

'Keep her away...' he pleaded. 'Keep them all away.'

'It's all right, Colonel. I'm not sure what you're seeing right now, but this is Keller. Frah Mussa thinks he has something to help you, so just hang on in there.' It was Keller's voice, but still Sarayah's face. Which should he trust, his ears or his eyes?

'_Neither,'_ the wavering faces taunted.

'I need to...go!'

He tried to get up, but could barely move, scalding hands grabbing and tearing at him, ripping the skin from his bones.

'Careful of his left arm.' That was Keller, always fussing...always hurting him...no...not right...she was there to help.

He continued to strain against them until his head began to spin to the point he thought he was going to pass out. 'Thir...sty.'

'I'm sorry, Colonel, but I can't give you anything right now,' Keller/the mad Medulsan soothed.

'_They won't give you anything...they want you to die,'_ the others chorused.

'Don't wanna die,' he croaked, aware again of the sensation of his body vibrating, shaking the bed as the faces around him swam into focus. It was his team, and the marines. They were holding him. 'Don't wanna die!'

'That's not going to happen, Colonel. Just stay with us,' Keller told him. He wanted to believed her, but the edges of his vision were clouding, and his kidney's hurt like they were about to explode.

Footsteps, running across the wooden floor – light, feminine. Then one of the Sarayahs morphed and Frah Mussa's wrinkled face was above him, his broad fingers wrapping around the back of Sheppard's neck and lifting his head from the bed.

'Drink this, Colonel. Slowly.'

It was hard to keep still long enough for the Frah to pour his serum into his mouth, but he tried. Someone caught hold of his head, adding their strength to keep him steady and ensure the liquid went exactly where it was supposed to. The sensation of the cool mixture slipping down his burning throat was sheer bliss, even in the midst of all the other horrific symptoms. It was small comfort, but at least it was some. He leaned toward the bottle, the only way he could communicate he wanted more.

'Slowly, Colonel. We have found the best way to take this antidote is a sip at a time. Too quickly and your stomach might simply reject it.'

So he endured the slow drip, drip of the cool and slightly bitter liquid, and the body wracking convulsions and hoped it would be over soon. He was pretty sure it would be, one way or another, and right now, he didn't actually care which way it went.

Eventually, when the serum was all consumed, and his body hurt from straining against the hands holding him to the bed, his brain decided he'd had enough and ended transmissions...

When he woke again later – several hours later – the first thing that struck him was a strong floral smell, that and something distinctly antiseptic. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but what he did know was that he felt a hell of a lot better than when his brain had called time on him.

The sensation of a cold cloth dabbing his forehead made him open his eyes to find Teyla smiling down on him. 'John. It is good to see those eyes open at last. How are you feeling?'

A residual ache nagged in his muscles, and a faint throb niggled behind his eyes, but it was nothing compared to the state he had woken in earlier. 'Okay...I think,' he replied cautiously, not wanting to tempt fate and have all that sickness come rushing back in on him. Then, a moment of recollection about his earlier rantings filtered back to him. 'Uh, Teyla...about earlier...I wasn't calling _you_ a bitch.'

'It's forgotten already. Think no more about it,' she assured him. Then, looking back over her shoulder, she called. 'Dr Keller, he is awake,' bringing not only Jennifer, but Rodney, Ronon and Carter hurrying to his bedside in the process.

'How're you doing there, Colonel?' Keller asked, taking a temperature reading from his ear as she waited for his answer.

'Like I've been used as a tow-rope...but better than I did.'

She pulled back the bed sheets, revealing his now unclad chest, and slipped on her stethoscope to listen to his heart. 'Well, that sounds a lot less erratic than earlier,' she smiled, moving on to checking his blood pressure.

Ronon perched on the end of his bed, his eyes crinkling with obvious happiness. 'You gave us a scare there, buddy.'

'I know. Sorry,' he winced, pushing himself up a little on his pillows, and feeling the tug of the IV line in his hand for the first time now.

'Not your fault.'

'Thought you guys were at the 'gate,' he croaked, to Carter and McKay.

'We were...but I tend to get distracted when one of my people is _that_ sick,' Carter smiled down at him. 'Besides, Rodney was worried for you. He insisted we come back.'

McKay squinted his disgust at her. Clearly he hadn't expected her to tell Sheppard that.

'I'm touched,' Sheppard told him, making his face flush.

Jennifer slipped the blood pressure cuff from around his arm. 'Almost back to normal. Looks like you're going to be fine, Colonel.'

'That's good to know...and Doc, sorry for throwing up on you earlier.'

Dr Keller just shrugged. 'It's not the first time it's happened, and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. Are you feeling up to a drink?'

'Am I ever.'

Someone had provided a pitcher of water and a cup while he'd been out. Keller tore open a packet of powder and tipped it into the freshly filled cup, stirring it in until it dissolved. 'This'll help re-hydrate you. Just take small sips for a start. We need to make sure you can keep it down.'

Once a few sips had stayed put for a while, she allowed him to take a little more, relieving the burning sensation in his throat. He still felt hot, despite having been relieved of his uniform, but he wasn't happy about lying there in his birthday suit, even with a blanket to cover his modesty.

'Uh, any chance I could have some clothes?' he asked, pulling the blanket a little higher.

Keller picked up a loose, white shirt from one of the other beds and held it up for him to see. 'This do?'

He screwed up his face; it hadn't been quite what he had in mind. 'Not exactly practical in an emergency.'

'Trust me. If there are any emergencies tonight, you won't be answering them.' She tossed it across his lap. 'It's clean, it's light, and it'll cover your embarrassment if you need to go to the bathroom. Right now, all you need to do is get some rest, and this shirt will do just fine for that.'

He thought about arguing more – about emphasising the necessity of being able to respond effectively should the need arise – but since he figured any attempt to get out of bed would result in his falling flat on his face, he knew that argument wouldn't get him anywhere.

As she'd poured his drink, he'd spotted his sweatband and wristwatch on the nightstand, and so thought about asking for one of them instead, just to feel like he had something a little more uniform-like on. Then, realising his skin still felt a little sensitive to the touch, he decided he could live without them for one night. Tomorrow, he'd have to see if he could get them both on one arm since his watch arm was in a cast now.

He relaxed back onto his pillows, closed his eyes, and told himself to let it go.

'So, did you and McKay get anywhere with the gate problem, Colonel?' he asked Sam.

She was about to reply, but McKay couldn't resist getting a shot in first. 'Well, we might have managed something, had a certain lieutenant colonel not get himself into trouble...again.'

'I already apologised, Rodney. What more do you want from me?' he asked without looking.

'How about a promise to stay out of trouble for the next...I don't know... year at least?' Rodney suggested.

Sheppard cracked one eye gave him a crooked smile. 'I'll do my best.'

'Okay, I know you're all concerned, but the colonel really needs some sleep now, so I want everybody else out of the room,' Keller ordered.

For the most part they obeyed, all except Ronon. Sheppard saw Keller stop packing her things away and stare at him, but the Satedan clearly had no intention of leaving.

'I won't be any trouble, Doc, but I'm not leaving him like this with Sarayah out there.'

'All right...if you insist,' she agreed, looking a little awkward. 'But if you're staying in here you can make yourself useful. If the colonel wakes up needing any more water during the night, I need you to add one of these sachets to it.' She waved a couple of sachets for him to see, then lay them beside the water pitcher on Sheppard's nightstand. 'I'm going to get some sleep while he's doing well, but if you're worried about anything, you wake me up. Understand?'

'Understood,' Ronon rumbled, crossing over to the corner of the room to dim the oil lamp burning there, then grabbing a ladder-back chair and pulling it up beside the colonel's bed.

Keller climbed onto what had been Teyla's designated bunk until all hell had broken loose, and slipped off her boots before pulling the blankets over herself and turning to the wall. It wasn't long before Sheppard heard the telltale shift in her breathing that signalled she'd fallen asleep.

Sheppard made the most of the reduced audience and lighting to pull on the shirt, letting Ronon help with feeding the saline bag down the baggy sleeve and hanging it up again from the bedpost, and then slid down beneath his covers to make himself comfortable. 'You know. You should go climb on one of the beds and get some sleep too, buddy. I'm good,' he told his friend.

'Yeah...maybe,' Ronon replied, lowering the lamplight to darken the room enough for sleep. Though he'd couched it as a request, Sheppard knew there would be no persuading Ronon to change his mind. He picked up his cup and had one last sip of his drink before closing his eyes. After the exertions of his earlier illness, sleep was swift to claim him.

oooOOOooo

Sarayah peered out from her window, careful not to attract the attention of the two Frahs sitting outside her door, chatting quietly about the earlier chaos. With her keen vision, she was easily able to spot the dulling of the lamp in the Lanteans' quarters through the gaps in the boarded shutters, deciphering that it meant they were preparing for sleep. That was a good sign, a sign that things were improving.

She hadn't been allowed into Sheppard's room during his illness, the troops with him had been watching the door and as soon as they'd spotted her they had twitched their weapons in a way that had suggested they were not afraid to discharge them.

So, she'd loitered instead in the square, watching the Frahs and Meritza running to and fro until eventually things had calmed. That had told her Sheppard was stable at least, but only when she'd stopped Meritza later as she returned to her own quarters did she find out about the poisoning and how close he had come to death.

The thought had sent her stomach spinning with nausea. She hadn't set up this scenario only to lose him to the vicious nature of this planet. She needed him...needed him alive, she corrected herself, although she knew her first thought had been the more accurate. A burning desire to possess him still consumed her just as strongly as it ever had, and she knew she would never be cured of it until she had tamed the rebellious lieutenant colonel.

As one of the Frahs turned her way she ducked back from the window and returned to her bed. She dearly wanted to see Sheppard, to ascertain for herself that he was out of danger, but she would not be permitted to do so. Meritza had told her he was recovering well, but she needed to see for herself, not simply take the word of that simpering wretch.

As she listened, the sound of footsteps crossing the square approached her dwelling. A voice, female but not one she recognised, asked if she could enter. The Frahs seemed to be trying to dissuade whoever was out there from doing so, but, intrigued, Sarayah pulled open the door and found Sheppard's leader standing on her doorstep.

'Sarayah,' the blonde woman smiled, though it was instantly clear it wasn't genuine. 'I was wondering if I could have a quick word?'

Assuring the Frahs that she didn't mind the intrusion, they allowed the woman to pass.

'I suppose you're here to accuse me of causing whatever ails Colonel Sheppard,' Sarayah said, gesturing toward the chair in the corner of her room as she sat down on the edge of her bed.

'Not at all, I'm certain you had no involvement,' the woman told her. 'That's not why I'm here. I just thought it was time I introduced myself. I'm Colonel Samantha Carter, Commander of Atlantis.'

Sarayah raised her chin, squinting at the tall woman who seemed determined not to accept her offer of a seat. 'The role vacated after Dr Weir's death?'

'That's right.' Again, the woman smiled at her, but it lacked any real warmth.

'Most unfortunate. Although we clashed, I appreciated her strength of character,' Sarayah told her, eyeing her clothing and weaponry. She appeared at home in it all. Perhaps she was trained military unlike Weir.

'Well, she was certainly well respected and greatly missed.'

Seeing an opportunity to dig for information, Sarayah pressed on. 'I suppose Colonel Sheppard will have felt the loss quite acutely. They did work closely for a number of years that I know of.'

'I'm not going to discuss John with you Sarayah, other than to offer an apology on his behalf. He shouldn't have lashed out at you the way he did earlier, and he knows that, although considering the lies you told about him...'

'Did he ask you to apologise for him?' Sarayah asked, cutting her off.

Colonel Carter narrowed her eyes. 'Does it matter?'

'The apology means nothing if it didn't come from him.'

'It came from him.'

Sarayah held the woman's piercing blue eyes, certain she was lying, but that this Carter was bright enough to know she couldn't prove that right now.

'Very well. I accept.'

'Good. We're not looking for any trouble from you, Sarayah. I imagine you're feeling just as trapped on this planet as we are.'

That suggestion didn't sit well with her overall plan, so she immediately refuted it. 'I came here looking for...forgiveness. Why should I feel trapped?'

Apparently this woman wasn't nearly as foolish as the Frahs. Her smile slowly twisted into a smirk. 'I think we both know that's a lie, so I'll offer you a deal. When we fix this gate, you can hand yourself over to our custody and we'll take you through with us. Otherwise, we bring a jumper through to dial the gate, take out the control crystal from this planet's DHD, and you can stay here and repent till your heart's content. You don't have to decide now, of course, but don't take too long thinking about it or you might miss your chance.'

'You are so certain you can fix the Ancestral Ring when the Divine One has kept it inactive for so many thousands of years?' she asked, giving the woman a smirk of her own.

'Absolutely,' Carter said, looking completely confident. 'The only thing you have to worry about is whether you'll be leaving through it, too.'

With that comment still hanging in the air, the colonel headed back toward the door, and Sarayah knew this was her last chance to get an update on Sheppard's condition. 'How is he doing now...Colonel Sheppard? Is he out of danger?'

'We have a policy on Atlantis enforced by Dr Heightmeyer. No one talks to you about Colonel Sheppard, and I'm not about break that silence no matter how nicely you ask.'

She left then, leaving Sarayah just as frustratingly in the dark as she had been before her arrival. She crossed to her window and watched Colonel Carter stride back across the square to their abode. She had to admire the woman; her height gave her bearing, she carried herself like a warrior, she had a sharp mind, and also wasn't afraid to use threats where necessary. These Lanteans certainly had impeccable taste in leaders.

As the door to the Lanteans' dwelling closed, Sarayah put her shutters across and began to pace the floorboards. So they wouldn't talk to her about Sheppard, and she wouldn't be allowed through the door of their residence, that much had already been made clear to her earlier. Well that was fine – there were other ways she could get within reach of the beleaguered military man. Colonel Carter might think she was clever, but she wasn't clever enough to keep her from finding out what was going on. No one was.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks again to those leaving feedback. As always, it is much appreciated and keeps me trudging through my edits! :D**

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**Chapter 8 **

_It was hot, way too hot, the sweat standing in huge beads on his forehead again. Sheppard opened his eyes to a dark room, just the single lamp burning low on a table in the far corner. Although he couldn't remember where he was for a moment, the earlier events came tumbling back on him and he realised he was in the quarters Frah Mussa had assigned to them. When he looked around, the other beds were empty, as was the chair Ronon had been sitting in. Where the hell had everyone else gone? So much for taking care of him._

_Pushing back his covers, he slipped out of bed and staggered into the next room. No one was there either. Nor in the next room...nor the next. Suddenly, the mild annoyance he'd experienced on realising he was alone slipped into something more resembling barely controlled panic._

'_Hello? Anyone here?' he called._

_Silence._

'_Great. I almost die, and everyone else takes the night off,' he grouched, trying to convince himself the others were just enjoying a meal or a drink with the villagers. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall with his left hand, the splint reminding him why that hurt so much. Deciding he should go dig out his radio and find out where they'd all got to, he headed back to his room, choosing to grab the lamp so he could use it to help him search. As he reached for it the tiny flame guttered and died, plunging him into utter darkness._

'_Great timing,' he grunted, figuring he would just have to hunt out his pack in the dark and look for the torch he carried in it instead._

_The sensation of cold metal against his throat told him he wasn't going to get the chance to see that plan through._

'_Don't make any sudden moves.'_

_He couldn't have made any even if he'd wanted to, so for once, this was one demand from Sarayah he was willing to obey. 'Where's everyone else?'_

'_Come with me,' she hissed in his ear, gripping his left upper arm and keeping the blade to his neck as she steered him to the window. 'Open the shutters.'_

_He did as instructed, spying a fire burning at the far side of the village. 'They were all rather easy to take down, to be honest,' she told him as he stared into the only source of light out there. Except your friend, Ronon. He proved somewhat harder to disable. McKay begged for his life, so I cut his throat from ear to ear to stop his babbling. The silence was bliss.'_

'_No!' he gasped. 'I don't believe you.'_

'_Teyla died with honour, but I expected nothing less of a woman like her. Your Colonel Carter was much the same...and Dr Keller...poor, sweet young Jennifer. She cried. I almost feel sorry for her.'_

_She released her grip on him, her fingers sliding up his arm to his collarbone, stroking, stroking..._

_Sheppard stared, fixated, at the flames, hoping beyond hope that the fire wasn't what he thought it was. 'What about the other villagers?'_

'_Oh, they were too easy for words. I killed them all in their beds as they slept. So simple.'_

_She was capable of it; he'd witness her determination and utter callousness on Karafus when she'd taken out a dozen or so Atrascans to get to him. But surely they couldn't all be gone...his friends, no, his family now...she couldn't have wiped them out while he was too sick to help. It was too much to even contemplate. He closed his eyes, and only now, with the fire shut out of his vision, did he realise she was stroking his skin so intimately._

'_Stop...please,' he choked, his trembling voice betraying the tears he was keeping from her. She obviously heard his upset because she circled him, all the time keeping the blade to his jugular. She reached up and caught a single tear on her finger, holding it up so it glistened in the light of the funeral pyre. _

'_What's this, John Sheppard? Tears? But you don't cry. Crying is weakness.'_

'_I don't care,' he whispered, refusing to look at her._

_The blade jabbed in under his chin. 'You're bad luck, Sheppard. Wherever you go you leave a trail of death in your wake. Everyone you care about dies, don't they? Everyone.'_

_He bit down on his trembling bottom lip, trying not to let any more tears fall. 'I didn't do this. You did this.'_

'_I did this for us.'_

_Reaching up, she ran her thumb across the cut in his eyebrow. He didn't pull away, didn't flinch, even though he felt the pain at some distant level. He was numb._

'_On your knees, John.' Her voice dripped with need, and he wanted to say no, but what was the point? What could he do, stuck here alone with a woman whose sole purpose in life was to control him._

_So he knelt, grateful that he couldn't see the fire anymore._

_Sarayah raked her fingers back through his hair, catching a fistful to drag his head back so far that he had to look at her. 'You let them down, John. You wanted to protect them, but you weren't up to the task.'_

'_I...I tried.'_

'_Well, it wasn't good enough...but it never has been, has it? Not for Holland, not for Ford, not Carson, not Elizabeth – should I go on?'_

'_No...'_

_She gazed down on him, the orange light from outside gilding the cruel twist of her features. 'John, John. Such a tortured soul. Will you take your punishment like a man?'_

'_Haven't you done enough?' he whispered. 'You can't bring me any lower.' But that was a lie; he knew she could and so did she._

_She slipped her hand inside the neck of the white shirt the Frahs had loaned him, running it over his shoulder and up the back of his neck, holding him firm as she put the point of her knife against his gullet._

'_Beg me to spare you, and I will,' she told him, eyes drilling into his._

'_I...I won't beg you for anything,' he told her, and he knew he wouldn't change his mind. What did he have to lose? His life? It meant nothing if his team was gone. He wouldn't continue to exist trapped here with a woman incapable of the most basic of human emotions. That wasn't really life. If he had to make the choice, he chose death._

'_One last chance,' she warned _

_He clamped his mouth closed, his silence his final act of defiance._

_For a moment, she actually looked sad, stroking his face with a gentleness he hadn't believed her capable of. 'Oh, John...such a waste,' she sighed._

_Then, she pushed the blade home._

Surprisingly, when Sheppard jumped awake he found no one else stirring. Four hours had passed since he'd last woken, and now he felt rested enough. Realising the others had probably spent much of the early part of the night worrying about him, he figured he shouldn't be that surprised they were still sleeping.

Freakishly lucid nightmares aside, he felt markedly better than he had, though still not himself. A burning thirst still clutched his throat, so he reached over for his glass of water, only to find it had moved out of his reach. _Way to go,_ _Ronon. _He thought, shakily pushing himself up into a sitting position from where he could reach over the powders Keller had left for him to the glass now sitting behind them. He found it half-empty, just as he'd left it. So, if Ronon hadn't refilled it, why had he bothered shuffling things around? Funny, he didn't have the Satedan down as the interfering type.

Now he was more awake, various aches and scrapes gave him not so friendly reminders of the previous day's mishaps, making him hiss through his teeth as he moved.

Ronon's eyes snapped open. 'Y'okay, Sheppard?'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Just would've been easier to reach my drink if you'd left it where it was.'

Ronon frowned, sitting forward and obviously noticing the powders had shifted position, too. 'I didn't move it. Must've been Keller.'

'Maybe it was revenge for puking on her earlier,' Sheppard quipped, leaning back against his pillows. 'Why don't you get on your bunk and catch a few hours. I'll be okay for a while.'

'Nah, I'm good,' his friend insisted, stretching out his long, muscular arms. 'You hungry?'

'You need to ask?'

'S'pose I should check it's okay with the doc before I go get you anything?'

'Yeah, s'pose so.'

Keller woke with a start when Ronon prodded her shoulder, telling him it was okay for the colonel to try something light, but to avoid anything that looked dairy related.

'And no fruit,' Sheppard called after him.

Giving Sheppard a grin, the big man ducked out in search of refreshments while Keller re-tied her hair to tidy the loose strands hanging in her face, then crossed over to where Sheppard lay. 'So, how are you feeling this morning, Colonel?' she asked brightly.

'Much better,' he replied, watching as she gathered her equipment out of her medical kit to run through the usual routine checks. 'Don't suppose that means I can get some proper clothes?'

'No...but it does mean I might let you have a short walk to get some fresh air later,' she smirked, clearly amused by his persistence. It sounded like that was the most he was going to get from her and, since he still felt pretty feeble, he didn't push it.

'Did you get another drink last night?' she asked him as she put her kit away again.

'No. I slept right through until now.'

'Oh.' She looked puzzled.

'What is it?'

'I just assumed because the sachets had moved...and I'm sure I left three here...'

Sheppard felt a sinking feeling. 'You didn't move them, then?'

She shook her head. 'No. I slept right through, too.'

He was probably making too much of it, but the fact things were magically shifting around gave him an uneasy feeling.

'Huh! Maybe I left them there after all. Things were a bit crazy in here last night,' she laughed nervously. 'Well, if you're okay I need to...well...you know.'

He figured he knew what she meant, so let her go, taking the opportunity to check the strength of his legs without anyone witnessing his nightwear. Light was breaking in through the wooden slats of the window shutters, so he set himself the target of opening them to let the light in. That would be enough of a test for now.

He swung his legs from under the covers, feeling ridiculously small in the voluminous swathes of shirt material. He suspected it might belong to the great Frah Mussa himself, since he hadn't seen anyone else even rivalling his broad proportions in the village. On the first attempt to stand, he ended up almost immediately on his seat again, but thankfully the bed broke his fall. So he took it more slowly next time, gradually straightening until he was sure he had his balance, unhooking his practically empty bag of saline and holding it in his splinted hand, then shuffling a few steps before daring to lift his feet any higher. Eventually, he managed to walk a couple of steps in a way that made him look more like a normal human being than a performing bear, steadying himself on the window frame as he removed the hook from the shutters and swung them open to let the daylight in.

Once he'd pushed the shutters back against the wall he was able to take a good look around. Many of the Frahs were already up and active. Clearly they had daily duties and all knew exactly what needed to be done with the minimum of communication. Sheppard leaned heavily on the window frame and savoured the antiseptic-free breeze. Much as the sterile smell had proved welcome after his bout of violent sickness, it was now beginning to stifle him.

He supposed life here on Guedeseo was pretty pleasant if you were on the run from an angry mob and you genuinely repented for your crimes. If not, and you believed in what the Frahs said about the Divine One, it had to be a frightening place. Hell, he didn't really believe in their deity, and it even had him thinking.

He heard the door to Frah Mussa's home open across the square, and he ducked into the shadow at the side of the window as he saw Sarayah step out. The Frah laid a hand on her shoulder and spoke in comforting tones, though he had no idea what the man had said to her, then he stepped back inside and left Sarayah to continue on alone. So what was her game here? Did she really believe in the Divine One? He found that hard to believe – she was a woman very much in control of her own destiny; it was very hard to imagine she had any kind of spiritual beliefs.

As if sensing eyes on her, she turned toward his window and he pulled back further, hoping she hadn't spotted him. The last thing he needed was the crazy bitch getting the idea he liked her. He waited a few more moments, heart hammering in his chest, before daring to take another look. Thankfully, she'd moved on and was now entering another building, perhaps her own quarters. As long as she wasn't heading his way, that was all right by him.

'That's a good look for you,' he heard Rodney snort from behind him, so turned to meet the scientist's derision full on. If he felt rough, Rodney looked far worse. His hair stuck out at several odd angles and grey rings circled his eyes as he scratched his ribs and yawned. 'You supposed to be out of bed?'

Sheppard shrugged, still hanging onto the window. 'No one told me I couldn't move.'

'Ah, and in your books that equals permission, I suppose. What do we have to do to get breakfast around here?'

'I'm guessing you either use your rations or start helping out with the chores. No freeloading allowed.'

At that point Ronon returned, carrying a bowl of broth. 'They made this last night, but they're having it again this morning and think it should be light enough for you to eat.'

'Oh right, I see...no freeloading, huh?' McKay sneered, folding his arms over his chest with a smug smirk.

'Well, I guess they make exceptions for people who almost die,' Sheppard conceded, hobbling back to the bed and sitting down before he fell down. 'If you'd like, I can give you directions to those berries I fell on.'

'No thanks.'

McKay sat on the bed opposite him and watched as he set down the saline bag and took the bowl from Ronon, balancing it on the nightstand and steadying it with his splinted arm before sampling the contents. It was a little salty for his taste, but it was bearable, unlike the way McKay was practically salivating in front of him.

'Smells like beef,' the scientist commented.

'Yeah, tastes like it, too,' Sheppard replied, knowing that would only add to the scientist's hunger. McKay didn't have the monopoly on annoying behaviour.

Ronon plopped down onto his bed and searched out an MRE out from his pack. 'So, Keller let you out of bed, huh?'

'Not exactly, no,' he confessed, 'I just wanted to try out my legs.'

'Well, I won't tell if you don't,' his friend smirked, tucking in ferociously as Rodney eyed him with mild disgust.

'Huh! And you presume she won't know. Doctors always know. They have an in-built radar for that kind of thing,' he snorted, his eyes soon returning to the colonel's meal.

Four spoonfuls in, Sheppard felt a dull ache start up in his stomach, and decided not to push his luck. He had no desire to go through another bout of vomiting so soon after the last. 'Here, Rodney. You look hungrier than I feel right now.'

'Really. Thanks!' he all but gasped, snatching it up and polishing the bowl off in a matter of seconds. 'Hmm. Not enough salt, but not bad.'

Sheppard figured that accounted for the man's rampant blood pressure, but decided that was and observation best left unspoken.

A moment later Keller bustled in, looking a little fresher and neater than she had when she'd left. 'Oh, couldn't find anything?' she asked, noticing Sheppard's empty hands.

'Yes, he did. And it was delicious,' Rodney grinned rubbing his stomach. 'Although, I am still hungry. Excuse me.' He ducked out, no doubt to raid his supplies.

'You couldn't eat it?' Keller asked.

'Nah. Stomach started hurting so I thought it best to stop.'

She laid a cool hand across his forehead. 'You do feel a little hot again now. Is it still hurting?'

'Not much.'

'Okay...I know you're going to protest, but I want you to take it ease today. Your body needs time to recover, okay?' she told him.

'Whatever you say, Doc.'

The surprise on her face suggested she'd been expecting more of a fight to gain his agreement, but he knew his limits on this occasion. His body wasn't ready to take up full duties just yet.

A light rap at the door heralded a visitor. 'Come in,' Keller called, and the young woman Sheppard had seen sweeping out their rooms on their arrival entered, this time clutching his clothes.

'We washed and darned them for you Colonel Sheppard,' she said, sheepishly laying them at the foot of his bed. 'Are you feeling well this morning?'

'Yes, I am...and thanks for the clothes,' he said, slipping back under his blankets as much to ease her embarrassment as his own.

'Meritza makes the antidote you took last night, Colonel. She's pretty much the reason you're still here,' Keller explained.

'Well...thanks for saving my life,' he smiled, bringing a deeper rush of pink to her cheeks.

'We always keep a stock of the antidote because many people eat the berries before reaching the village and we are unable to warn them. You must have fallen into the ripe red ones; had you absorbed the juice of the yellow or green ones –'

' – we might not be having this conversation,' he finished for her. 'I suppose I should consider myself lucky.'

'Indeed,' she said, her eyes flicking up to his, although she didn't have the confidence to hold his gaze for long. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I have other chores I must finish before breakfast.'

When she was gone, Sheppard mustered up his best puppy dog eyes and asked Keller for permission to wear his own clothes.

She pouted, chewed the inside of her mouth, then threw him a compromise. 'You can have your pants, but I'm keeping the shirts. There's no way you can do anything too strenuous in that thing. You'll get lost in it. And make sure you put on your sling.'

He looked down at himself, feeling ridiculous all over again. She was right, if he tried to do much more than a gentle stroll he'd probably end up getting in a tangle.

'Deal,' he barked, snatching the pants and his underwear from the pile before she could change her mind.

Keller picked up his shirts to remove the temptation to renege on his side of the bargain. 'Okay. I'm going to head through to see Colonel Carter and give you some privacy while you get those on. Not that I haven't seen it all before...several times.'

Trying to think of a witty comeback, Sheppard found he had nothing. There really wasn't much you could say to a woman who had an almost intimate knowledge of your anatomy. He settled for a question. 'Uh, Doc. Wait. Can you take out the line so I can wear my sweatband and watch, too?'

'Oh, sure. I left them right there –' she replied, pointing at his nightstand, her face falling when she saw, just as he did, only the watch lying there. 'Well, that's odd. I'm sure I put it there with your watch. She walked over to the nightstand and checked behind it and under the bed next to it. 'Nope, I must be mistaken. It's not here. I'll take the line out since it's almost empty and then check my kit in case I dropped it in there while I was working on you. Make sure you drink plenty of water today, or I'll be sending for more saline from Atlantis, okay?'

'Sure. Thanks.' But he already knew she wouldn't find the sweatband. Sheppard had a good memory, and distinctly remembered seeing it lying on the nightstand. In fact, the sachets had been leaning against it. He was certain of that.

When she'd left the room, he voiced his concerned to his friend. 'Ronon. I think someone was in here last night.'

'Why, did Keller say she didn't move the stuff?'

'That...and she's right about my sweatband. It was on the nightstand, right next to where she left my watch. And it's not there now.'

'You think it was Sarayah?'

He shrugged. 'Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but Sarayah likes to take my stuff...you know, like a trophy. I have a horrible feeling this is just the start of something bigger.'

Ronon's expression hardened. 'I'm gonna go talk to her.'

'No, Ronon. I don't want you getting any more involved in this mess than you already are. We're just gonna need to be more vigilant, that's all. If she's moving stuff just to screw with my head, fine, I can deal with that for a few days. But if she can get in here without a single one of us hearing, she is more than capable of killing us in our beds. From now on, we have someone posted at the door at all times.'

Ronon nodded, though he looked like he wanted to do something far more proactive. 'Okay.'

He pulled on his trousers and crossed to the window again, looking out into the seemingly peaceful village outside. It looked calm, but he could feel it, a sensation building, perhaps only inside him. She was up to something. Every fibre of his being told him that. But she'd supposedly come here for sanctuary. Surely she wouldn't have come to a place with a reputation for exacting divine punishment for any other reason? If that was the case, would she risk facing the Divine One's judgment for one more attempt to bring him to his knees?


	9. Chapter 9

**A big thank you to everyone who is sticking with this story. I know this is a slow build up, but it will be worth your wait, I promise! ;-)**

**Chapter 9 **

'And you're sure it's missing?' Sam clarified, trying not to show her true feelings about John's accusation.

'Well, I can't find it, and it's not where Keller left it, so –'

' – so you're assume Sarayah came in here last night and stole your sweatband, even though there were two Frahs posted outside her door all night?'

Sheppard glanced at Ronon, as if seeking support. Like an obedient pet, the Satedan joined in. 'It's not just that, things got moved around in here. None of us did it.'

This really wasn't what Sam needed. Being trapped here with Sarayah was understandably making Sheppard paranoid, but now it seemed the feeling was spreading.

'I don't know...it's not much to go on,' she said, realising she was shaking her head as she spoke. She forced herself to stop. Negativity wasn't going to help the situation at all, and would more than likely spur the colonel on in making his accusations. 'Don't you think if she managed to infiltrate your room she'd be more likely to take something she could use to her advantage...like a weapon?'

Sheppard shook his head now. 'I don't think this was meant to be anything more than a mind-game on this occasion. Look, I'm not suggesting we report it to the Frahs or put out an APB. But if she can get in and out of here without waking a single one of us, she might not stop at taking stuff next time.'

'Okay,' Sam nodded, now understanding his concerns. 'We'll take it in turns for the watch.'

'That's all I ask.'

It was somewhat of a relief to her that he wasn't pushing for some kind of interrogation or search of her quarters. The evidence of Sarayah's supposed ingress was circumstantial at best, and the Frahs already seemed stretched to the limit of their patience with their accusations. They didn't judge. She got that. But John did, and she didn't blame him.

'Okay, well, I think it might be best if Rodney and I head back up to the 'gate and put a few more hours in there,' she said, rising from Sheppard's bunk where they had congregated and picking up her pack. She dipped her head toward Lorne's team to silently instruct them it was time to depart, as Rodney quickly rammed a power bar into his mouth whole to free up his hands.

'Maybe you could use Teyla, too,' Sheppard offered.

Sam thought in an odd suggestion, but when she read his expression, she knew he wasn't telling her, but asking her to take his teammate with her. He didn't think she was safe there; he was protecting her. Well, if it eased his mind just a little, perhaps allowed him to relax and get the rest he quite clearly needed, she could accommodate his simple request.

'Good idea, the fresh air will do you good, Teyla. Grab your things.'

Teyla cast a pained look at John, as if she saw this as some kind of rejection. Sam supposed in days gone by, John would have wanted the tiny Athosian fighting at his side. But things were different now, and Sheppard was the type who would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. She knew John felt a great responsibility for those under his command, and took any failures personally. Elizabeth's loss had deeply affected him, as had Dr Heightmeyer's, though he had not often worked too closely with her, and now this...well, clearly he wanted to make sure no one else was lost on his watch.

As they left the building, they were immediately approached by Frah Lisso. He smiled broadly, and spread his hands as he stopped before them. 'Ah, Teyla. You are looking remarkably well this morning considering the troubles of the past night. Impending motherhood obviously suits you well.'

'Thank you, Frah Lisso,' she said, smiling in return.

'May I enquire where you are all going?'

Sam fielded the question, since McKay had been about to and she really didn't think she could deal with any more trouble right now. 'We're heading out to the Stargate again. We didn't get to put much thought into the dialling problem yesterday, not with the unfortunate incident with Colonel Sheppard, so we thought we'd start early and make up for lost time.'

His smile faded slightly, but soon returned. 'So, you won't be joining us for breakfast?'

She shook her head. 'I'm afraid not...but thank you for the offer.'

'You are most welcome. Perhaps another morning.'

'Hopefully not,' Rodney muttered, and although Sam instinctively knew he'd only said that because he hoped they would solve the glitch today, she couldn't help but wish he'd been blessed with a little more tact.

'Yes...perhaps,' she said through her fixed grin, then, throwing Rodney a filthy look, she ordered the team to move out, leaving the Frah watching them leave and looking a little irked.

The morning was far more pleasant than the previous day, temperate and with only the finest wisps of cloud so, hopefully, no rain. That would make their work easier, not that they would let a bit of precipitation stop them.

They covered the six clicks to the gate in a little over an hour, Rodney slumping to the ground with a groan as they arrived. Teyla, too, looked tired, but Sam could forgive her for that. She'd never endured the joys of pregnancy herself, didn't know if she ever would, but she'd heard about how tiring it could be, so it was impressive Teyla had kept up the pace, refusing to stop even when the opportunity was offered. She looked tense, smiling patiently but stiffly, as Rodney grumbled about the blisters he now had on top of his blisters, and Sam suspected that her body might be with them, but her mind was elsewhere.

As they neared the DHD, things suddenly took a huge leap from bad to worse.

'Oh, now, would you look at that?' Rodney cried, throwing his arms up in despair as they spotted the control systems had been damaged, the dialling symbols and control crystals smashed to pieces. A large rock lay nearby, obviously the implement employed in the sabotage. 'Now do you believe Sheppard about Sarayah?'

Sam chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Sarayah had to be their number one suspect, but this seemed a little graceless compared to the pranks in the house. 'Okay, I guess this means we may take a little longer to fix the problem than we thought, but it's not insurmountable.'

'Not insurmountable? Have you seen this thing,' he shrieked, picking up shards of the symbols and dropping them back onto the DHD. 'We could build a new one quicker!'

'It may not be pretty when we've finished with it, but with some parts from Atlantis we can fix it, McKay. You get set up – I just have to do a few things first. Teyla, would you join me?'

'Of course.'

They walked a short distance away, into the midst of a small copse, and then Sam stopped and gave Teyla her warmest smile.

In return, Teyla simply looked puzzled. 'I do not understand, Colonel. What is it you want me to do here?'

'Oh, that was just a cover to stop McKay trying to follow us,' Sam told her. 'I wanted to get your feelings on what happened back at camp this morning. I get the impression you're the one most likely to give me an impartial opinion.'

'What is it you want to know? I was in your room all night. I didn't see anything.'

'I know – it's more your gut instinct I'm interested in. Do we have something to worry about, or is Colonel Sheppard –'

Teyla's reaction to her implied doubt was instant. 'Colonel Sheppard is not prone to flights of fancy, Colonel Carter. And Sarayah does have a habit of taking his things to keep for herself. This could be a warning...or even a game. From what I have learned of her 'illness', unnerving him in this way would be quite in character for her.'

'You know about sociopaths?'

'I spoke with Kate often about Sarayah. Of course, she was unable to discuss specifics of Sarayah's own counselling, but she did explain the illness in great detail to help me understand my feelings toward her, and those of the colonel.'

'I see. I must confess, after hearing what she accused him of yesterday, I can understand John's anger and mistrust.'

'I doubt that any of us who have not experienced obsession of this level could ever truly understand how John feels...' Teyla rolled her eyes, wrapping her slender arms around herself, across her stomach, her eyes now glistening with emotion. 'I feel I am an additional burden to him here, just another thing for him to worry about. He does not believe me capable of defending myself against her.'

_Hormones, _Sam thought, remembering how her brother had complained about his wife's constant mood swings throughout her pregnancies. 'I'm sure that isn't how he feels at all –'

'He only agreed to my coming because he thought it was a straight forward reconnaissance mission. Now he is angry with himself for doing so, and I feel a great guilt that I put so much pressure on him to let me join in.'

'You are still an effective member of this team, Teyla. You're pregnant, not sick.'

'But I am compromised. If it were a choice between others and myself, knowing my child would live...I am no longer sure I would take the risk.'

'John understands that. We all do. Don't beat yourself up about it.'

Static burst through on her radio, then Rodney's voice whined, 'Not wishing to sound facetious here, Sam, but I seem to recall you said _we_ would be working on the 'gate problems. A little help here?'

'Be right there, Rodney.' She gave Teyla's shoulder a squeeze. 'Don't worry too much, Teyla. John has Ronon there with him. I can't think of anyone more suited to protect him, can you?'

Teyla choked out a laugh. 'No, I cannot. Sarayah would be most unwise to cross him.' She wiped tears from her eyes and forced on her customary smile. 'Thank you for your concern, Colonel Carter. It has helped to get these feelings into the open.'

'Hey, I know what it's like to be the only woman on a team,' Sam beamed, rubbing her arm. 'Sometimes you just need another woman to talk to. So remember, my door's always open...well, not here obviously, but, you know what I mean.'

'I do...and thank you.'

Teyla grasped Sam's upper arms and pressed her forehead to against hers. Sam recognised the Athosian greeting and felt honoured that she'd shared it with her. Now to tackle McKay...she doubted his greeting would be so warm.

oooOOOooo

John woke from another nightmare, staring up at the bare plaster ceiling until his heart returned to what could laughingly be called a regular rhythm, though it was still far faster than he knew was normal. He could hear Ronon and Keller talking in the next room, and from the few words he caught, he and Sarayah were the hot topic of conversation. It had to be hot for Ronon to be using so many words.

'No...and...not move it. I didn't see him...at all. He says...slept all night.'

'But we di...Sarayah, either. It's just ...plausible that Sheppard...in the night...and he jus...n't remember.'

He was always pretty good at jigsaws, crosswords and mental arithmetic. Piecing it all together and adding it all up from the cryptic clues, he realised Keller was suggesting he'd moved things himself during the night and had been too out of his head to remember. Great, so his own people thought he was losing it. Maybe he was.

But whatever they thought about last night, he knew Sarayah was up to something. He decided it was time to head over to Frah Mussa's house for another little chat. Maybe he could shed some light on things.

He slipped on his sling to ease the ache in his arm, and had almost made it out the door before either Ronon or Jennifer noticed. 'Uh, and just where do you think you're going, Colonel?' she asked, folding her arms and trying to look cross.

'Just...out,' he said, feeling like a teenager caught trying to sneak out to a party after being grounded. 'I'm getting stir-crazy staring at the same four walls.'

'I'm not sure you should be out and about just yet,' she advised him, giving Ronon and anxious glance.

'I feel fine now,' he assured her, forcing on a crooked smile. 'Besides, I'm not talking about a 10 mile run, just a stroll around the village.'

'I'll come with you,' Ronon said, getting out of the seat he'd sprawled in.

'No need to –'

'I'm coming,' Ronon insisted, and Sheppard knew there was no point in arguing. Ronon had a certain look that came into his eyes once he'd made his mind up about something, and it was there right now.

Sheppard nodded and carried on to the door with the big man in tow, enjoying the breeze as they exited the stale air of the building. Tipping his face skyward, he took a moment to enjoy the afternoon sun. Though this region of Guedeseo was warm, and his room had been hot while the sun had fallen across it that morning, his previous night's sickness had left him suffering from a residual chill, and the natural warmth outside of the now shady building was very welcome.

'Where'd you wanna go?' Ronon asked him, interrupting his moment of meditation.

Sheppard took a deep breath of warm air and looked over at Frah Mussa's house. 'I think I should thank our host for his help last night.'

Ronon nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. Glad for the show of confidence in his ability to at least walk unsupported, Sheppard trudged his way over to the building, disappointed to find that even that short journey took far more out of him than he would ever admit.

The Frah sat at his desk studying an ancient tome, and didn't look up as they entered. Supposing the older man might be a little hard of hearing, Sheppard cleared his throat loudly enough to be heard.

The Frah's head snapped up from his reading. 'Oh...Colonel Sheppard. I'm glad to see you looking so much better this morning. Please...sit down.'

Before Sheppard could make any move to retrieve one of the simple wooden chairs set back against the wall, Ronon grabbed two and swung them in front of Frah Mussa's desk.

Sheppard gave him a smile and didn't complain, knowing it would only sound churlish, but he hated it when people felt compelled to do those kinds of things for him. As Ronon sat down beside him he heard a distinct moan from the reed bindings holding the uprights and rails together. It held, although Sheppard half expected him to disappear in a heap of broken wood and dust at any moment.

'I must confess I'm surprised to see you up today. Most people take a few days to find their feet again after lantha berry poisoning,' the Frah told him, his genuine amazement shining through in his tone.

'Well, I guess I must have had a smaller dose than most of them. I didn't eat any, so I probably didn't have much in my system.'

'Yes,' the Frah agreed. 'You might be right. Though a small amount on the skin is harmless if cleaned off, if some juice entered the bloodstream you would certainly have felt the effects. I hope the others in your party now understand the dangers of ingesting the berries.'

'Don't worry. We all know the risks of eating unidentified foods,' Sheppard assured him. Then, seeing the Frah's concerned look, he added, 'but I'll be sure to tell them anyway.'

Seeming relieved by that concession, the Frah closed his book and leaned his clasped hands on top of it. 'You are a lucky man, Colonel Sheppard. Many do not survive the experience. Perhaps the Divine One wishes you to live after all.'

'Yeah...maybe...Uh, you know...I've been thinking...We really should be doing more to make ourselves useful while we're here. Is there something we can help you with?'

'Dr Keller said you can't to do anything physical, remember?' Ronon rumbled at his side.

'Quite right. I wouldn't expect anything of you at this time, Colonel...however, there is some site clearing your friend here can help with, if you wouldn't mind?' the Frah asked.

Ronon peered at Sheppard from the corner of his eye, waiting for his agreement, which he readily gave. The Satedan shrugged. 'Sure. Where d'you need me?'

'We are expanding our arable land to grow a rich crop to transport with us when we migrate in a few months time. It is a fast growing grain for making our bread, and if we plant it in the next few days, it should be ready when the time comes to leave. There is need for much more food with our growing population, and some of my fellow Frahs and other villagers are felling the trees and shrubs from a previously unfarmed area of land. If you go outside and find Frah Riggo, he will guide you there. He is currently readying the frenock and cart to transport the seed up to the field, so he will not be hard to spot.'

'Frenock? That's an animal, right?' the Satedan asked.

'Yes, one of our cattle. They are strong and hardy beasts with many uses...particularly good for hauling heavy loads.'

'Should be easy to find.' Ronon headed for the door, stopping only long enough to say, 'Straight back to Keller when you've finished here, Sheppard.'

'You have my word,' the colonel promised him.

'I am certain we will have the land ready in good time with his help,' Frah Mussa beamed, clearly pleased with the trade for their accommodation. 'The migration is hard on all of us, and anything we can do to prepare our crops and cattle for the journey is a bonus. I noticed many of your friends appear to follow Sarayah around the village. Perhaps they could assist her with her work, too?'

'Sure. I'll have a word with them for you,' Sheppard offered, about to activate his radio. Frah Mussa held up an open palm in his direction to stop him.

'Before you do that, Colonel, I wonder if I might ask_ you_ a question?'

Puzzled, Sheppard nodded slowly. 'Sure.'

'Last night, when you were ill, you suffered some hallucinations...and I believe they may have concerned Sarayah.'

Although he really didn't appreciate the reminder, Sheppard was intrigued to know what direction he was taking this in. 'That's right, although there were some other things...'

'You seemed...afraid of her.'

That statement didn't sit well with him, even if it was true. He shifted stiffly in his seat. 'Well, I was pretty freaked out at the time.' Realising 'freaked out' meant nothing to the man sitting in front of him, he offered clarification. 'I was vulnerable...sick...I didn't want her anywhere near me.'

Frah Mussa nodded his understanding, his eyes locked on Sheppard's as if reading him. For the first time, the colonel felt like Mussa was actually appraising him, something he thought he had no interest in.

'I have heard much about your previous encounters from Sarayah, but you have kept fairly quiet on the subject. I should very much like to hear what you have to say, Colonel Sheppard.'

Frowning, the colonel averted his gaze, preferring to look out of the window as he thought. He'd never actually told anyone the specifics of the tortures he'd endured during his time with the Atrascans. The finer details weren't particularly relevant, so he'd simply omitted them, painting the picture of events with a far broader brush. But here was a man who was completely unbiased by nature, one who when he left this planet he would never have to see again. Perhaps this was exactly the kind of person he could talk to, someone to whom he could finally unburden himself and lift the cloud of depression and secrecy that had loomed over him, choking the life and humour out of him since Sarayah's escaped from Medulsa. He wanted to remember what it was like to be the John Sheppard who had tossed a coin that had changed his future, the John Sheppard who had entered Atlantis with eyes wide with wonder and hope for an exciting future. But no, he would never be that man again. Too many things had happened – too many people had been lost...

'I'll understand if you prefer not to tell me –'

'It's not that,' Sheppard mumbled, forcing himself to resume eye contact. 'It's just...I don't talk...much.'

'A private man? I understand.'

And Sheppard knew at that moment the opportunity was lost to him, his chance to alleviate his strain sabotaged by his own words. He wouldn't tell Mussa what had happened now because he'd given himself an excuse not to. But this did seem a prudent time to ask him to heed his prior warnings. 'All I will say is don't trust anything she says. She lies, she manipulates, she twists things and people to her own benefit and then casts them aside when she's finished with them. She is very, very dangerous, despite all outward appearances.'

This time, unlike on the previous occasions he'd tried to warn him, Frah Mussa appeared to give his words due weight. 'Having seen your reaction last night, I find myself more willing to listen to you than I am to Sarayah this day.'

'Be careful, Frah Mussa, that almost sounds like a judgment,' Sheppard said, suppressing the smirk trying to fight its way free.

'More an observation,' the man told him. 'Only the Divine One ever truly judges the peoples of Guedeseo. I am merely opening my mind to your suggestions since the everyday protection and survival of the inhabitants of this village is a Frah's ultimate responsibility.'

'Sounds smart. And I have a question for you now, Frah Mussa. Did you post those two men Sarayah asked for outside her quarters all night, or did you decide I was too incapacitated to make it worthwhile leaving them there?'

The Frah nodded. 'Sarayah was most insistent that we still have someone outside her door. Two men at a time took short shifts throughout the night.'

_Insisted, huh? _Though he hated being so suspicious of everything she did, that sounded like someone looking for an alibi to him. 'And she stayed in her room all night?'

'No one has reported otherwise.' The man eyed him, leaning back in his seat and making it creak in distress. 'Is there a problem, Colonel Sheppard?'

'No...I was just interested,' he lied, pushing up slowly to allow his weak legs time to get used to bearing his weight before trying to walk. 'Anyway, I think I've taken up enough of your time, so I'm going to head back to my room to get some more rest.'

Frah Mussa rose with him and followed him to the door. 'Not at all, Colonel Sheppard. My door is always open to those who wish to talk. That is what the community here on Guedeseo is all about.'

He placed a reassuring hand on the colonel's shoulder, and because he wasn't wearing his gloves Sheppard noticed for the first time that this man, too, had the end joints of his fingers missing. He didn't react, deciding the question might be best kept for another time since it might be considered an intrusion. Frah Mussa was coming around to his way of thinking, and he had no desire to do anything to jeopardise that. 'Take care of yourself, Colonel. Rest is key to your recovery.'

'Don't worry, I already have several people nagging me about the same thing,' Sheppard smiled, heading shakily out into the sunlight again.

He'd made it halfway across the square when a voice stopped him in his tracks. 'Good afternoon, Colonel. It is good to see you out and about so soon.'

It was Meritza, the girl who had brought him his uniform.

'It's good to be out,' he replied, coming to a halt and waiting for her to join him. 'And you can call me John.'

'Meritza,' she told him, blushing again, though he remembered her name from Keller's earlier introduction.

'You look busy,' he smiled, hoping to put the anxious girl at her ease. She was carrying a basket full of various ingredients that looked pretty heavy and she set it down, straightening out the kinks in her spine. 'I hope you don't mind my asking, Meritza, but what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?' He inwardly cringed at what could have been interpreted as a clumsy attempt at a chat up line, but which thankfully held no such connotation for her.

She looked at the ground as she tried to find words to answer him. 'I am just as sinful as the others here, Colonel...John...maybe more so. I have killed a man...I had to come here and seek forgiveness.'

Sheppard looked at the woman standing in front of him – frail, gentle and softly spoken, with waves of blonde hair swept up and secured at the nape of her neck. He couldn't imagine her ever lifting a hand in anger, but he supposed all things were possible. 'Well, killing isn't always a sin...sometimes there are extenuating circumstances...'

She looked puzzled, brushing some dirt from her hands onto her skirts. 'Violence is never the answer...'

'That depends on why you did it,' he pointed out. He wanted the details, but didn't want to ask outright. If it got back to the Frah that he'd been prying into people's pasts it might make him unpopular again.

'I...I killed...the father of my children,' she blurted out, raising blue, tear-filled eyes to his.

That stunned him into momentary silence. He wanted to say something supportive, but she hadn't exactly given him enough material to work with. 'Well...I'm sure you had good reason...'

'He was beating the children...he had drunk too much yarkan ale and they had broken a dish while helping me prepare supper. He was furious and wouldn't stop hitting them. I had to do something...'

'Of course you did,' he agreed, knowing he would have done just the same. 'You were thinking of your kids –'

'I couldn't forgive myself...our society says all killing is sinful...so I came here to be judged.'

'And who has your kids now?'

'My parents have taken them in...I could not stay...I would have been cast out anyway if I hadn't come here. This is our way.'

Sheppard resisted the urge to tell her that was a damned stupid law because it wasn't exactly his business, even though he knew she'd done what had to be done.

Suddenly, Meritza's face blanched and she dipped to pick up the basket, scurrying away. 'I...I must go. There is much to do before this evening's meal.'

Thinking her sudden departure rather odd, it took Sheppard a few moments longer to sense eyes on him. He turned and found Sarayah standing a few feet behind him – alone. Looking past her, he hoped to spot at least one of the marines they'd put on her tail, but he was disappointed.

'Hello, John,' she said, smiling though her eyes remained hard. 'You look as if you were expecting someone else.'

'I was...actually,' he replied, scouring the various alleyways behind her while his brain rattled through at least a dozen expletives.

'I suppose you mean your people...the ones who've been trailing after me all day?'

He allowed his eyes to drift to hers now. 'Well, the idea was that they kept you in view.'

'Oh, don't blame them, John,' she smirked, swinging her shoulders coquettishly. 'A woman has to have some privacy, so...I gave them the slip for a while.'

'Yes...so I see.' He tried not to look as vulnerable as he felt right at that point, with his oversized shirt hanging low enough to expose some of his chest and his arm strapped up in a sling. He would have a few words to say to her guard detail when they reported in, that was for sure. 'Well, much as I'd love to stand here and exchange pleasantries...'

'I'm happy to see you pulled through everything that happened yesterday. Almost dying twice in one day must be out of the ordinary...even for you.'

'Not when you're around,' he muttered.

'You think those things were my doing? I'm flattered,' she grinned, making him feel like punching her square in the teeth. 'But I think you'll find the Divine One can't be influenced...not even by me. If it could be, I certainly wouldn't have allowed it to come so close to killing you.'

'No, because that would be stealing all your fun, wouldn't it?' he sniped, tiring of the conversation and pushing past her to cover the rest of the ground to the hut where Dr Keller awaited his return.

'But that was the old me, John,' she called after him. 'I've come to Guedeseo to pay for my past behaviour. It's not as if I knew you would eventually track me here and we would end up trapped...with no way off the planet.'

Ice shards stabbed into Sheppard's spine, and he stumbled to a halt, turning to face her again. From the way her eyes held his, sparkling with amusement, he realised that was exactly what she'd suspected would happen, or had at least assumed she could engineer when someone from the Atlantis crew eventually traced her there. This was always going to happen, but fate had handed him to her somewhat sooner than her plans had calculated. That was why she'd looked so genuinely shocked when they'd run into her on the first day. Maybe that would play in his favour. _Yeah, sure. Clutching at straws now, John?_

'Well, we have people working on that problem right now, so...you may be disappointed yet,' he told her, furious with himself for sounding so desperate.

'The journey to Guedeseo has been a one-way trip for thousands of years. What makes you and your people so sure that's about to change?' she asked

'Colonel Carter is just as smart as McKay when it comes to this stuff. Between them, they'll fix the gate.'

Her smile dropped a fraction at his words, and he knew he had her worried. She already knew McKay was smart because he'd fixed the weapon on Medulsa, but two people that intelligent...they had to stand a chance and that was something she clearly hadn't factored into her plans.

'I wish them luck,' she spat, her tone as poisonous as lantha berries. She turned away herself this time, no doubt trying to hide her frustration.

'Oh, and I'd like it back,' he called as she retreated.

She looked back at him, frowning. 'Like what back?'

'The sweatband you took from my nightstand.'

She shook her head, feigning confusion. 'I don't know what you mean, I was in my room –' but that same sparkle in her eyes told him the truth.

'Let's cut the crap!' he snapped back, the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching from behind him now. 'I know you were in our room last night, but you won't manage it again because there'll be someone on the door looking out for you.'

Rather unnervingly, she smirked, as if that would have little effect. Sheppard felt a small hand wrap around his arm and looked down into the alarmed face of Dr Keller.

'Colonel! Are you all right?'

'I'm good,' he insisted, snatching his arm away from her so fast he left her swaying.

Sarayah gave Dr Keller a broad smile and then strode away. Sheppard silently fumed that Jennifer had rushed to his rescue that way, further fuelling Sarayah's belief in female superiority, no doubt. He knew she'd been well intentioned, but he would have preferred the doctor to give him a chance to rescue himself before assuming he was in distress.

'What did she want?' the doctor asked him, watching her go.

'To mess with my head,' he grumbled, walking away himself now, leaving Jennifer trailing in his wake. He was tired, angry and hungry, but more than anything he was frightened...frightened because he now knew Sarayah definitely hadn't come here looking for any kind of redemption, only for a way to draw him to her on a planet she thought would be their final resting place...one way or another.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

Maritza basted the five large birds cooking in the brick stove, stabbing them with her two-pronged fork to check whether the juices were yet running clear. Above them, on a thick metal hotplate resting on the brick Framework three large pans boiled vegetables to be eaten with the meat for the evening meal. They didn't always eat so well. Often, the birds and other native animals hid so effectively they didn't eat meat for weeks. They certainly seem to know to avoid the several miles surrounding the village, and the other villages when they migrated to avoid the harsh summer.

Mopping sweat from her brow, Maritza threw another log on the stove fire to keep it burning. The crackling grew fierce as the damp wood spat and hissed out its evaporating moisture from the several days of rain that had soaked into it in the lean-to outside the kitchen. Sweeping stray tendrils of hair behind her ears, she reached for her stirring spoon and gave all the pans a generous swirl before adding a few more herbs and wiping her hands on the apron she had donned to carry out her duties.

The noise of the bubbling liquids and spitting fire had an almost hypnotic effect, so much so that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned to find Sarayah standing just behind her. Her approach had undoubtedly been masked by the sounds of the evening meal cooking, but she certainly wasn't the type to frequent the kitchen anyway.

'Sarayah...you scared me,' she laughed nervously. 'The meal will be ready soon. Are you here to help me serve it tonight?'

'No.'

The answer was so short and flat that Maritza had no idea how to continue. She looked back over her shoulder at the stove, then into Sarayah hard, dark eyes. 'Well, If you were hoping for a helping now, I will have to disappoint you. It isn't quite ready.'

'Stay away from him.'

Wondering if she'd heard Sarayah correctly, she asked, 'I'm sorry...who are you talking about?'

'Colonel Sheppard...stay away from him.'

The murderous look in Sarayah's eyes as she repeated those words set Maritza's heart thumping against her ribs again, having only just calmed a fraction from the initial shock of her silent appearance. 'I...I w...wasn't intending –'

'I have no desire to listen to your wittering. Just do as I say, and you will not be harmed.'

Maritza knew her jaw had dropped. She had come to Guedeseo over a year ago and until these past few lunar cycles had felt at peace with her lot, though the longing for her children tugged at her constantly and left her sobbing into her pillow some nights. But, since the arrival of Sarayah, she had felt unsettled. The woman had an air of underlying aggression about her that reminded her of Parou, the father of her children. Violence simmered beneath her calm surface; Maritza had sensed it the moment they'd met, and she didn't doubt she was capable of terrible acts if crossed. If she herself had killed, it was certain Sarayah had, too.

'I...I w...will stay away from him, she stammered, backing away to a work station beside the stove and fumbling behind her for the knife she knew she'd left there. She didn't want to use it, but neither did she want to die. Her fingers found the hilt of the knife, still wet from the juices of the foods she'd sliced and grasped it as Sarayah took a few steps closer to her.

'Colonel Sheppard is a dangerous man. You shouldn't trust him,' she warned Maritza. 'I'm telling you this for your own good.'

'Th...thank you,' Maritza whispered, not sure why she felt compelled to say it, but hoping it would satisfy Sarayah's insistence.

'You're welcome.' And the ferocity was instantly replaced with an almost genial smile. She stroked Maritza's pale cheek. 'So naive, so trusting...I would hate to see you come to any harm.'

Unsure whether Sarayah meant harm from the colonel or harm from her, she held her breath and waited to see what would come next, her grip on the knife tightening. Thankfully, she backed off at that point, and Maritza dared to breathe again.

'Lucky you were so quick with your serum yesterday, or he would have been dead. The Devine One will surely smile on you for saving his life.'

'I hope so...The Devine One has been kind to me so far.'

'Yes, I'm sure he can read what's truly in people's hearts.' Picking up a sliver of sliced vegetable from the table Maritza had been working at, she popped it in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. 'Sheppard and his people don't believe in the Devine One. That makes them dangerous, wouldn't you agree?'

None of the recently arrived party had struck Maritza as particularly worrying, except perhaps the man with the long ropes of hair. But he had never done anything to harm anyone, and she had heard he'd been a great help in preparing the new arable land. Now she began to question her feelings; if they really didn't believe they would be judged, they could be capable of any crime.

'The serum to counteract the lantha berries...where is it kept?' Sarayah asked, now perching on the tabletop while waiting for her answer.

'In the infirmary of course...with the other medicines.'

Sarayah nodded. 'And how would I recognise it?' she enquired. 'I should like to know in case of an emergency.' As if reading Maritza's questioning expression, she added, 'It wouldn't do if there were no one in the village able to identify it when it was needed.'

'I always mark the stoppers with a red dot...every medicine has its own mark. I can explain then some time –'

'And how much would be enough to cure someone who has eaten some berries?' Sarayah interrupted.

'That depends; the unripe yellow or green ones can kill very quickly and require a full bottle, but the red ones need less and their effect is far slower...that is how we knew Colonel Sheppard did not require the full bottle last night...his sickness was slow to affect him.'

'Thank you,' Sarayah said, standing so suddenly she made Maritza start. 'Don't tell anyone about what I said about the colonel, Maritza. You know how the Frahs frown upon people making judgements. But we women have to stick together...have to watch each other's backs when there are so few of us here amongst all these men.'

'Yes...yes we do.'

'I'm glad you understand. I knew you were a bright girl,' Sarayah smiled, turning abruptly and leaving her there alone with her work.

Maritza watched the door for some time, her fingers still wrapped around the knife so tightly her knuckles ached. Then the trembles set in, shaking her whole body, swiftly joined by tears of both relief and fear. She had come to Guedeseo to find peace of mind, and to set an example for her children of the kind of sacrifices a parent should make for them. Now, she wished she could run home to them and hold them in her arms again. Perhaps Colonel Sheppard was right and they would fix the Stargate so people could return to their homes. Having spent over a year there, she felt the Divine One had had plenty of opportunity to judge her, and she had never seen him at anything other than a great distance, just like two nights ago when he had claimed the peak of the mountain where two of the villagers had died picking medicinal herbs three lunar revolutions earlier.

Perhaps she should tell Colonel Sheppard what Sarayah had said...but...she really didn't know him yet, and she supposed that Sarayah warning, if delivered somewhat harshly, might be true. No...she would stay out of their business. She was not there to judge – she'd heard those very words often enough from Frah Mussa to know that was the truth – the Divine One would intervene with whichever of the two of them was truly dangerous, of that fact she felt certain.

Scrubbing tears from her face with the back of her hand, she returned her attention to the meal. The best thing to do was to ignore what had just happened, she decided, and to keep herself busy and private. That way, she couldn't anger Sarayah or the colonel in any way...she hoped.

'So how're things back in the Holy Land?' Rodney asked as Sam returned to help him with some more repairs. Major Lorne had sent through a number of vital replacement components damaged in the attack on the DHD, and now after spending almost all day replacing and mending, he finally felt like he was making some progress toward getting it working again.

'Well, Ronon has been helping the villagers to earn our keep, and Colonel Sheppard had a run-in with Sarayah in the village square when she gave the guard detail the slip.'

McKay sat back on his heels, slack-jawed. 'What? Is he okay?'

'Yeah, it was just verbal...although he said she pretty much admitted she'd come here with the intention of luring him in on a one-way ticket.'

'Oh, we have so got to fix this thing,' McKay sighed, getting back to work.

'Agreed, but the light's just about gone, Rodney. We should set up camp here to make sure no one can come back and wreck things, and Lorne's team can take shifts to watch while study the data we have so far. We can work on the gate and the DHD themselves in the morning.'

He sighed again, feeling like a failure. They'd been pulling apart and piecing together the DHD for ten hours now, and because of the extra work caused by the sabotage, they were no closer to solving the original problem. Much as he would never admit it, he was glad to have Sam there because the failure felt less personal knowing he wasn't the only genius who couldn't solve the problem.

'Okay. I just have one more diagnostic and I'll be right with you,' he told her, watching the figures streaming across his screen and hoping beyond hope they came up with some kind of explanation, some fault he actually knew how to solve this time.

Sam instructed the others with them to make camp for the night while he waited. Teyla, who had travelled reasonably lightly, walked toward him and gave him a sympathetic smile. 'Have you made any progress at all, Rodney?'

'I'll let you know in a second,' he told her, holding up his finger as an instruction for her to hold that question.

The test rolled on to it final stages and came up with – nothing. Once again, all the data showed there were no flaws in the 'gate or DHD technology.

With a feral growl, Rodney swiped up the laptop, about to toss it away like the useless piece of crap it was. It was only Teyla's swift reactions that stopped him, her hand catching his wrist before he could release the computer.

'Rodney! This will do no one any good. Do we not need the data you've collected.'

'No we don't,' he railed. 'It's useless...all of it. Sam and I have been working on this between us for over a day now and we've come up with nothing of any consequence. I might as well be hitting it with a sledgehammer for all the use I've been! Of course, we know that wouldn't work either because someone already tried!'

'Rodney, I have faith that you will work this out in the end.'

'In the end! Sheppard needs me to figure this thing out now, not next week. It isn't broken...at least not now we've repaired it, and no part of this DHD or the 'gate isn't functioning as it should be. There's just no reason for the thing not to power up. If it was broken, I could fix it, but –'

'The answers will come, Rodney, given time,' Teyla assured him calmly.

Damn it, why couldn't the woman understand this was not a time for cool logic. This was a time for tearing your hair out at the roots and releasing a primal scream – which he did...in a repressed scientist kind of way.

'No luck, I take it?' Sam said, wandering back over in their direction.

'Absolutely pointless, just like all the other diagnostics we've run today,' he whined. 'I have absolutely no idea what's wrong with it.'

'That's not true, Rodney,' Sam said brightly. 'We know a whole bunch of things that aren't causing the problem now. So maybe this is just going to have to be a process of elimination.'

Rodney threw his head back and sighed. Why was he the only one who ever understood how bad any given situation was? 'But we've eliminated everything, and we still don't have a working 'gate.'

'No, we eliminated all the obvious things,' Sam corrected patiently, battling to keep up her reassuring smile. 'So now we have to think more laterally, that's all. Tell you what, since the situation back at the village is relatively stable, let's take a break for tonight and come at this completely fresh tomorrow. I have a feeling that with a good night's sleep behind us, and no more interference from whoever damaged the DHD last night, we can crack this thing. Are you ready to head out?'

He knew things were bad when Sam felt the need to give him a pep talk rather than kick him in the ass. His shoulders slumped, and he gathered together all his kit to follow Sam to where the others were pitching the tents. For once, the kit felt a small burden compared to the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. He was, after all, Dr Rodney McKay, smartest guy in two galaxies. Everyone expected him to perform miracles...technologically speaking, with the exception of Sam, of course. She understood what they were up against. But even she had had a thinly veiled look of desperation about her as they'd finished up today, a silent expression that had cried out, _Do something, McKay, _loud and clear in his mind. Even she wanted him to have a Eureka moment. Things were definitely bad when Sam looked at him that way...and gave him pep talks...Oh, man! They were so screwed.

He huffed his way to the spot Sam and the other troops determined was a safe place to make camp, and let them do the rest. Making camps really wasn't his thing, and since almost all of them had done nothing more than sit on their hands for most of the day, he figured it was about time they pulled their weight.

Tents pitched and a fire lit, he sat down to wait while a kettle of water heated up over the freshly sprung flames. He felt dirty, thirsty, hungry and...dumb. Yes, that was what he really felt, dumb. He had no more clue what was wrong with the gate than anyone else sitting around that campfire. He was...average. Crap...he couldn't cope with that. His intelligence was the only thing that made him bearable to most people. He was useful in a crisis...if he couldn't fix this, people would lose faith in him..his team would lose faith in him. And if anything happened to Sheppard because he couldn't figure a way off of this desolate planet, Ronon would rip his nuts out via his nostrils, that was certain.

'McKay, let it go...at least for tonight. That's an order,' Sam said quietly from across the other side of the fire.

Was he that easy to read? He supposed he was. People had always told him he should never lie because it was written all over his face. He could never hide his true feelings.

Eating his meal in silence, he half-listened to the trivial chatter and banter between the troops, wishing he could join in, but he just wasn't wired that way. And right now, his brain was doing somersaults over the whole unsolved 'gate mystery. Of course, the Daedalus would probably beam them out if the need arose, but he hated when something truly baffled him. This would eat at him for months, possibly years if he didn't figure it out. He just couldn't let it beat him.

Eventually, fed and watered, they retired to their tents, Sam bunking in with the two female officers in the party and Teyla suggesting Rodney join her. Since it was Teyla or a couple of grunts, the decision was an easy one. He crawled in with Teyla and immediately pulled out his laptop to continue work.

'Rodney, did Colonel Carter not say that you should let the problem go until tomorrow?' Teyla asked gently.

When he looked up at her, he saw pity in her eyes. She knew why he was doing this – she knew he hated feeling so helpless...so useless.

'I wish I could, but it's just not that easy for me to shut my brain down, because, well, you know, it's my brain and it doesn't really do the shutting off thing.'

'You must try, Rodney. You look exhausted.'

'I am, but this...this is what I do.'

'You know if John was here he would tell you the same thing,' she told him. 'He wouldn't expect you to make yourself ill over this. Our situation is not yet so desperate.'

'I know, but...I'm not like you and Ronon. I'm not good at the real buddy stuff. I don't do listening or sympathy...I don't even do the whole friendly sparring with big sticks things you guys do that helps Sheppard to unwind...though heaven knows why. All I can do is fix things, and Sheppard needs me to fix this thing now...and I just can't do it.'

Teyla tilted her head and smiled, reaching over from her sleep mat and resting her hand on his forearm. 'Rodney, John appreciates you for far more than your ability to fix things. That is not the only reason why you and he are friends. I am certain he appreciates how much time you are putting into this problem, and that he would wish for you to rest and look at it again tomorrow with a fresh perspective. You suffered an unexpected setback today – one that cannot be repeated now we have a guard duty at the 'gate. Tomorrow you will make more progress. One more night here will make little difference.'

'I guess,' he sighed, yawning and rubbing his weary eyes. He'd been staring at computer screens almost all day and his eyes were strained and stinging, and his head span like a roulette wheel, imaginary numbers and codes whirring into a blinding blur. 'Maybe I should just lay my head down and see what happens.'

'That's good, Rodney. I think you'll find sleep will come relatively quickly after all your efforts of today.

He lay back and closed his eyes, his thoughts swiftly slipping from clear to abstract as his consciousness tried to let go. Moments later, he was disturbed back into wakefulness by a rustling sound to his right, as Teyla scrambled toward the tent entrance.

'Where are you going, he asked in a hoarse whisper that was probably louder than his normal speaking voice.

'I just need to step out for a while, Rodney. I will not be long.'

'What? Well...do you want me to come with you?'

'Not for this particular trip, Rodney. I will be back soon.'

'But we're supposed to stay together, right?'

Teyla turned on her torch to illuminate the tent, giving him an amused smirk. 'There are certain things that must be done alone...things a woman in my condition may have to do more regularly than some.'

Rodney unravelled the cryptic message and then felt his face instantly colour up. 'Oh...oh right...yes...of course...off you go. Don't let me keep you.'

He lay back down and rolled over, closing his eyes even though he knew she would most likely wake him when she returned.

But it wasn't Teyla who woke him. The sudden pulling back of the tent flap and yelling of his name did an admirable job of ripping him from his temporary slumbers and throwing him into utter chaos.

'Rodney. Did Teyla tell you how long she would be gone?'

It was Sam's head poking in through the opening, shining a torch in his direction.

He shielded his eyes against the invasive glare, than flapped an instruction to get it out of his eyes. 'She just needed to answer the call of nature. She'll be back any time.'

'That was half an hour ago according to Lieutenant Williams, and now we can't get hold of her.'

'What?'

Now he was scrambling toward the exit, Sam pulling back to let him out. 'But she just needed to go to the bathroom. She was right here with me...where can she have gone?'

'That's what we were wondering.'

Panic set in scrambling his thinking. 'Oh, nonononono, this can't be happening...wait maybe she fell and can't get up.'

'She'd not that big, Rodney. Besides, she has a radio with her...which she'd not answering.'

'Maybe she hit her head and she's unconscious...we have to go look for her!'

'That's the plan, Rodney. Okay, let's split up into two and start searching. Rodney, you're with me.'

'Wait...wait,' he stammered as the other two teams headed out. 'We should contact the village, let them know she could be on the way back there.'

'You think she might head back there?' Sam asked.

'I don't know...I guess I'm just hoping,' Rodney squeaked, his voice cracking. Teyla was missing and he'd slept while it all happened. He hadn't imagined he could feel any guiltier than he already had, but he did now.

Sam gave him a grim nod. 'Okay, but I'll do it,' and Rodney tried not to feel too bad about waking Sheppard up with bad news when he was already so troubled.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So trouble is brewing at last. It's all downhill from here. Thanks to those of you still following the story, your comments and support are much appreciated. :D**

**

* * *

****Chapter Eleven **

_The sensation of someone landing on top of him in the dark jerked Sheppard from his sleep. A flash of metal and the accompanying screech threw confusion and fear into the mix, as he scrambled to fight his way free from the jumble of limbs. A lamp suddenly illuminated the scene and he saw, for the first time, the Iratus Bug pinned to the floor by a long-bladed knife. _

_The figure clutching the lamp remained silent and crouching nearby, and though he couldn't see the face, he had the feeling whoever it was was watching him._

'_Th...thanks,' he stammered, catching his breath as he vaguely saw it clouding from his mouth. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he had the feeling something was wrong with this scene, even more wrong than the fact a squirming Iratus lay pinned only a few yards from his position on the end of the manacles._

'_Have you ever hunted in the dark, John?' an all too familiar voice asked him._

_Swallowing hard, Sheppard pushed back to the full length of his chains. 'W...what?'_

'_I asked if you've ever hunted in the dark.'_

_Sarayah angled the lamp a little so he could now see her face as she crawled slowly toward him, seeming more animal that woman. His heart thumped frantically against his sternum, sending vibrations through his whole body in response. He had to get a grip on his fear; fear was good if you mastered it, but this didn't feel like he had it controlled – this was bordering on panic._

'_You should finish that thing off...it's still dangerous,' he croaked, his phobia of the bugs kicking in and stealing his voice as he remembered his encounter with one way back in the early days after his arrival in the Pegasus Galaxy. It had been inevitable that he would run into one again eventually, since they were native on many planets in Pegasus, but this had to be just about the worst time for one to pop up. He watched it writhing, still struggling with the sense that the events now unfolding were askew somehow._

'_What...that little thing,' she smirked, scrabbling toward it in a manner far too erratic and rapid to be normal._

_To his horror, she pulled out the knife and grabbed the insect, holding it tightly behind its head between her thumb and forefinger. _

'_It's just a little insect, John – hunting in the night.'_

_She held it toward him from where she sat, and he watched its thrashing grow stronger as it repaired itself. 'Yeah, well, if you don't mind, I think you should just stick that knife right back where you pulled it from, because if that thing gets loose, we're in serious trouble.'_

'_Oh, this insect won't bother me...I'm untouchable,' she hissed, scurrying toward him again, crossing the ground almost too quickly for his eyes to track._

_He jerked back again, but there was no slack in his restraints so he only succeeded in wrenching his ankles. 'J...just keep that thing back!' he insisted, hating fact he'd sounded so scared._

'_It's just hungry, John. You can't blame it for what it does. It has needs...needs it has no control over.'_

_The creature's mandibles flexed and it clicked a protest at being so close to its prey, yet unable to reach it._

_The muscles and tendons in Sheppard's neck ached with tension from holding his position. He didn't dare move; the thing was so damned close he could smell it. 'Keep it away!'_

'_But if it doesn't come closer, it will die. It needs you to sustain itself. Just give yourself to it...I'll let you go once it's recovered if you just give yourself freely.'_

'_If I let that thing latches onto me, it won't let go until I'm dead.'_

_She grinned, revealing rows of Wraith teeth, grey and razor sharp. 'It can't help what it is, no more than I can. We have needs – we need you to give us life.' _

_As she'd spoken those words, her voice had grown more flanged until he recognised the inimitable sound of Wraith vocal chords vibrating with speech. She thrust her hand forward, but it no longer clutched the bug; it had morphed into a Wraith feeding hand that slammed into his chest, nails gouging deep into his skin, the rush of enzyme flooding his system followed by soul-shattering pain._

_He heard screaming – his own voice – but somehow detached, and as she leaned in, she blinked her dark orbs and revealed the rattle snake eyes of the Wraith._

'_We cannot help what we are, John. We need you to give us life. Do you understand that, John? Do you? John?'_

'_John!'_ Sheppard's eyes snapped open at the sound of someone calling his name, looking around the room to locate Sam. It was only when she repeated the call he realised it was coming from his earpiece.

'Colonel? This is Sheppard,' he responded, sitting up in his bed.

His reaction jolted Ronon from his sleep, too, and the big man swung his legs from under his covers, instantly alert.

'_Sorry to wake you, John, but we have a problem. Teyla is missing, has been for around an hour now, and we can't find her or raise her by radio. Rodney was attacked while we carried out a preliminary search, but he's okay. Has there been any movement in the village?'_

'Not that I'm aware of.'

'_Well, we could use all our personnel to help with the search – if you're up to it.'_

'I'll get people looking from this end. Hopefully, she's okay and just got turned around in the dark.' Even as he said it, he didn't believe it. This was something far more sinister. This was an opening move.

He jumped up, wavering a little, but forcing himself to steady. 'Ronon, go get the others. Teyla's missing and we need to go look for her.'

'Teyla?'

'Go get 'em!'

Ronon was through the door and shaking the marines and Keller awake before he could ask again, while Sheppard awkwardly hauled on his tac-vest.

'You lousy bitch!' he cursed, as he stuffed as much of his voluminous shirt into his waistband as he could and snatched up his P-90 from under the bedclothes where he'd been sleeping with it. Even with a guard on the door, he hadn't been willing to take any chances, and now it seemed his paranoia was justified.

He stormed out past the others, forging his way over to Sarayah's dwelling where two Frahs stood on his approach. One held up his hand. 'You cannot enter this building, Colonel Sheppard. Frah Mussa instructed us to stop you should you make any attempt.'

'I don't give a damn what he said, I'm going in there and you really don't want to try to stop me!'

The two men glanced anxiously at one another, and Ronon ran across the square to join him. 'Sheppard?'

'I want to see if she's in there,' he growled. 'I'm not gonna do anything, I just need to see.'

Suddenly, the door opened, and a dishevelled looking Sarayah poked her head around it. 'What's all the noise out here?'

Although shocked to see her there, Sheppard still felt certain she was involved in Teyla's disappearance. 'Where is she?'

Rubbing her eyes, she yawned and then simply blinked back at him. 'Where is who?'

'You know who I'm talking about,' he spat, pushing past her and taking a look around the room. The bed did indeed look slept in, and there was nothing unusual about the room at all. But she had to be responsible...if she wasn't, where was Teyla?

'Please, Colonel Sheppard, I must ask you to leave. I'm not dressed for receiving visitors.'

He spotted her clothes folded on a chair, the trousers spattered with mud, and her shoes similarly dirtied. He hadn't noticed them looking so filthy when he'd run into her in the square earlier, so she'd been up to something since then.

Without looking directly at her, he stomped back out and across the square to join the troops and Dr Keller who were waiting for them. Ronon followed hot on his heels.

'Now what?' the Satedan called after him. 'If she's here, she can't be responsible for what's happened to Teyla.'

'I wouldn't be so sure of that,' Sheppard muttered, signalling for everyone to move out. He knew she was involved in this. He just had to find a way to prove it.

*****

Jennifer trailed along behind them as they searched the woodland and open stretches covering the ground between the village and the Stargate, clearly out of her element, but Sheppard needed every available pair of eyes searching, and he wasn't prepared to leave her alone in the village, either.

Hour after hour raced by with no clues forthcoming; not a trace of Teyla could be found. The sky began to brighten, heralding the start of another day, but even Ronon could find nothing. It was as if she had simply disappeared from the face of the planet.

Eventually, Sheppard met up with Colonel Carter and her team, all looking thoroughly despondent and exhausted.

'You look terrible, John. I want you to go back to the village and rest,' Sam told him.

Yeah, like that would happen, and he would have argued the point, too, had his legs not decided to betray him and buckle at that point. Only a strong arm from Ronon prevented him from collapsing to the ground.

'That's an order,' she added, as if she even needed to.

'I'll go with him,' Rodney immediately offered.

'No, Rodney, I need you with me. We have to get back to work on the 'gate.'

'Work on the 'gate? With Teyla still missing?' he gasped.

'Yes, Rodney, because if we can fix it, we can bring through more troops to help with the hunt.'

The word _hunt _reminded Sheppard of his nightmare. _Do you like to go hunting in the night?_ He knew someone who did, and this little episode had Sarayah's paw prints all over it.

'Maybe I should head back. I could ask around to see if any of the villagers saw anything or can help with the search,' he offered.

'Good idea, John. Though I was hoping to keep this limited to Atlantis personnel, we could use all the help we can get,' Sam agreed.

'I should go back to the village, too – keep an eye on the colonel,' Jennifer said, waiting for the okay from Carter.

But it was Sheppard himself who gave her an answer. 'No, you need to stay out here with the search parties. If they find Teyla, she may need you more than I do.'

'I'll go with him to make sure he gets back there in one piece,' Ronon rumbled, and this time no one argued.

Despite the fact his body and brain were crying out for more rest, Sheppard had no intention of slowing. He had questions to ask, and one particular person he wanted to question. 'You didn't have to come with me, Ronon. I know how much you want to find Teyla.'

The Satedan shrugged his broad shoulders. 'There's nothing out here, Sheppard. If there was, I'd have found it by now. Besides, someone has to make sure you're okay –'

' – and since everyone else is busy, you thought it should be you,' Sheppard finished for him. 'Well, you only have to see me back to our room, then you can head back out here if you need to.'

'And leave you in the village with Sarayah? Don't think so, buddy.'

Though he hated the fact his friend didn't think he was capable of defending himself against the woman, he had to admit, he didn't exactly feel like he could, so the company would be welcome.

'You think the villagers'll help?' Ronon asked, steadying him as he stumbled on the uneven ground.

'I hope so. They know the lay of the land better than any of us. If anyone can find her, they can.'

'You got any theories?'

'Just one.'

'Sarayah?'

'Who else?'

Ronon shrugged. 'I was thinkin' about that weird Frah guy...the one who was so interested in the fact she was pregnant.'

That thought hadn't even occurred to Sheppard. He had acted pretty weird around her, even that morning as she'd headed out with Carter and McKay. He and Ronon had heard him outside and listened in, waiting to see if they needed to intervene on Teyla's behalf. 'I guess he might be worth checking out.'

'Lookin' forward to it.'

Sheppard slammed to a halt and slapped the back of his hand against Ronon's chest. 'Hold on there, Chewie. We can't just go blaming any Tom, Dick or Harry for Teyla being missing. We need to keep these people on side.'

'But you saw what he was like.'

'Yeah, I did. And like I said, we'll check it out. But that doesn't include getting heavy with the guy, okay?'

Ronon fell silent, and Sheppard set off walking, sure if he stopped again his legs would refuse to continue.

After a while, Ronon said. 'She'd better not be hurt, that's all I'm sayin'.'

'Amen to that,' the colonel agreed.

The village was in view through the trees now...just...he could make it there if he set his mind to it. Unfortunately, his weary limbs had other ideas, and he tripped over a loop of root, landing sprawled on his face and sending a shaft of pain through his damaged arm. It had already been aching from carrying his gun for hours without his sling, something Dr Keller had bent his ear about all the way out there, but he'd insisted he could do without.

Ronon picked him up and he dusted himself off, yet again embarrassed by his lack of strength and co-ordination.

They broke free of the woodland and trudged heavy-legged into the centre of the village to help themselves to fresh water from the well. Sheppard's flask had long since dried up, and his parched mouth was grateful for the relief. Splashing it across his hot face helped to bring him round from the state of near collapse he'd got himself into from the sheer effort of the search. He knew he wasn't well enough to stay on his feet, but this was Teyla – he couldn't rest until she was found.

Frah Mussa made a rare exit from his house the moment he saw them enter the village. 'We were worried when we could find none of you this morning, Colonel. Two of my Frahs told me there was an incident between yourself and Sarayah last night. Is something wrong?'

'One of our party is missing,' Sheppard told him, heaving himself up onto the brick well to take the weight off his legs as they talked.

'Who?'

'Teyla.'

'Teyla? The young pregnant woman?'

'That's right.'

Frah Mussa shook his head, suddenly sombre. 'This is most unfortunate. If there is anything we can do to help...'

'Well, if you can spare the man power, we could use all the eyes we can get.'

'Of course. Anyone who isn't doing work vital to the migration will help. But Colonel...I cannot promise we will find her.'

Sheppard eyed him, wondering why he seemed so pessimistic. 'I think we should give the search a chance before we decide that, don't you?'

'You have to understand, Colonel. This is life on Guedeseo. People are known to simply disappear, if that is the wish of the Divine One.'

The atmosphere instantly chilled. 'You think she was judged?' Ronon asked, squaring up to the old man.

Sheppard cast him a look that simply said, _Are you really threatening this old guy? _The Satedan slackened his stance and backed off. 'Well, let's just say we're not about to give up on Teyla yet. I think there's someone less than divine involved in all this,' the colonel told him. 'Dr McKay was attacked, too...he took a knock on the head.'

The Frah instantly picked up on his meaning, checking back over his shoulder to ensure no one else was standing close by. Everyone was too busy with their work to concern themselves with the conversation at the well.

'You suspect foul play with Teyla also?'

'Let's say I'm keeping my mind open to all possibilities,' Sheppard told him, seeing Frah Lisso wander out from a small building into the sun soaked square. Before he could stop him, Ronon was after the man, catching him by the shirt and slamming him into the closest available wall.

Though he didn't really have the energy to spare, Sheppard launched himself after his friend, forcing himself between the two men and facing Ronon down. 'Ronon, this is not the way we're going to do this!' he insisted, his hands firm against the Satedan's chest, feeling the pressure as the man refused to back off. He seriously hoped this wasn't going to get any more physical than it already had because he had little hope of taking Ronon down, even on a good day.

'Where were you last night?' Ronon grumbled, his green eyes blazing into the frightened little man.

Frah Lisso shrank away, and as the meat in this human sandwich, Sheppard could feel him quivering against his back. 'Ronon, give the man some space.'

'We've wasted enough time already; he needs to tell us where she is.'

'Where _she_ is? I do not understand,' Frah Lisso gasped, eyes wide with fear.

Sheppard's injured arm throbbed a reminder that it was in no fit state to be holding back around two hundred pounds of angry Satedan. Ronon had lost it, this was about to turn ugly, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Frah Mussa hobbled over at last. 'Their friend, Teyla, the woman with child...she is missing,' he explained to his colleague.

'No! But that is terrible...she must be found,' Lisso breathed.

'Don't pretend you don't know anything about this. You were the only person around here who showed any interest in her,' Ronon growled.

'Ronon, please...buddy...I don't think he knows anything,' Sheppard pleaded as the world around him began to sway. His body was finally telling him enough was enough, and only his determination to protect the Frah was keeping him on his feet.

Ronon remained unconvinced, pushing forward as Sheppard's arms at last refused to play ball and gave way under the increased pressure. In the confusion and shouting that followed, he wasn't sure quite who was grabbing at whom. All he did know was that when they finally all separated, he was staring into the face of Sarayah, who now held Ronon at bay for him.

'This is not the way on Guedeseo,' she warned Ronon. 'You will soon find yourselves expelled from the village if this behaviour continues.'

Ronon snatch his shirtfront from her grip, brushing himself down. 'If they'll take in your kind, I figure they'll put up with us,' he told her, his stare every bit as fierce as hers.

Much as it pained him to admit it, Sarayah was making more sense than his friend right now. 'She's right, Ronon. You need to calm down.'

Ronon's glare quickly switched to him, but he stood his ground. 'She's right? I can't believe –'

The edges of the colonel's field of vision blurred, but he blinked the bleariness back to the fringes. 'On this occasion...yes.'

'You need their help if you wish to find your missing friend,' Sarayah insisted, continuing to hold him back.

Ronon eased off a little, angrily pushing Sarayah away from him. 'You saw what he was like with Teyla yesterday morning, Sheppard, and the day before that.'

'Yeah...yeah, I did. And I'm sure Frah Lisso is willing to answer any questions we might put to him.'

'All of us will answer your questions,' Frah Mussa assured them both. 'Please, Ronon, give Frah Lisso a chance to account for himself.'

'What about her?' the Satedan asked nodding his head toward the Medulsan at his side. 'Will she answer our questions, too?'

'Of course, will you not, Sarayah?'

'Whatever is required,' she agreed, her eyes fixing on Sheppard now.

Despite telling himself he wasn't going to do it, Sheppard suddenly felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead, his vision tunnelled and his legs crumpled, sending him slumping toward the floor, barely aware of hands clutching at him to slow his fall...

*****

'I said you stay away from him!'

Sheppard woke back on his bed in their assigned quarters, with Frah Lisso laying a cold cloth across his head. The small man gave him a faint smile as he brought his troubled face into focus, but it was clear he was worried.

Beyond him, Sheppard could see Ronon's back looming in the doorway to the passage to the other rooms in the building, and Sarayah's voice chimed in from just outside it. 'I'm bringing food. He needs to eat; how else will he regain his strength?'

'He won't eat anything you've touched; he doesn't trust you.'

Sheppard rolled his aching eyes back to the Frah beside him. 'Water?'

The man reacted in an instant, lifting and supporting his head as he placed a metal cup to his lips and poured the contents in. It was cool and refreshing, and just about all he felt he could cope with right now. It seemed the after effects of the lantha berries were forcing him to take note at last.

'You really should eat something, Colonel. Here,' he opened a pouch on his belt and pulled out two pieces of what resembled Earth fruits. 'These are quite safe and will give you lots of energy.'

His stomach ached, but Sheppard didn't know if that was an after effect of the poisoning or pure hunger now. Fruit was just about the last thing he felt like eating, but, deciding to trust the man's judgement, he took them and bit into one which had a pleasant flavour resembling that of a pear. After allowing the first few mouthfuls time to settle in his stomach without bouncing back, he then ate the rest, slowly, while he listened to the continuing argument between Ronon and his stalker.

Eventually, Sarayah gave up trying to gain entry and left, and Sheppard was finally able to relax. 'How long was I out?'

'Only a few moments...long enough for us to carry you here,' Lisso told him, backing away from the bed a few paces as Ronon approached, giving him the evil eye. 'I swear to you both, I had nothing to do with your friend's disappearance. I would never do anything to harm anyone on her condition. Children are so precious...and rare in a place like this.'

John managed another silencing look at Ronon, though he knew it was only because the man had already calmed a little that he obeyed him. It wasn't like he could do a damned thing about it if he decided to knock the guy flat.

'Did you have kids...before you came here?' he asked Lisso.

The man's eyes brightened as he nodded enthusiastically. 'Oh yes. I had two fine boys, and another child on the way...I never saw whether it was a boy or a girl child. My crime meant I was forced to leave my home.'

The light left him again, his shoulders slumping and his eyes brimming with tears.

'Your crime? So you didn't come here by choice?'

The Frah sadly shook his head. 'On my home world of Taggassa I was a doctor. A sickness swept our planet, not mortal, but terribly debilitating. After much research I discovered a drug existed that would cure the sickness, so I convinced our government to trade for it...but there were problems. Someone had tampered with the drugs, trying to gain material wealth by mixing in extra ingredients that caused terrible side effects and many people died as a result of the administration programme. I had to come here or face death on my home world. I chose to let the Divine One decide my fate.'

'If you came here to be judged, how did you end up becoming a Frah?'

'I was chosen.'

'By whom?'

'The Divine One.' He held up his hand to show the missing finger ends they'd already noted. 'He appears to those of us he chooses and allows us to touch him. This is the mark we all wear for the privilege.'

_Some privilege, _Sheppard thought, and from the look he caught on Ronon's face, his friend was thinking just the same thing. But that did explain why both he and Frah Mussa had the same disfigurement. He supposed this meant all the Frah's were similarly afflicted – this was seen as their badge of office.

'So if you didn't take Teyla, who did?' Ronon demanded, willing now, it seemed to let the man defend himself.

'I do not know...unless the Divine One took her.'

'Teyla was a good person. The Divine One wouldn't have judged her,' Ronon assured him.

The Frah looked dumbfounded. 'I honestly do not know. We have had people here in the past I would have deemed capable...if I were allowed to make such a judgement...but now...I just do not know. Perhaps the Divine One does not wish your people to fix the Stargate, and this is a sign of his displeasure.'

'Then why didn't it take McKay or Carter?' Ronon pressed, arms folded and eyes still full of fury.

They were interrupted then by the arrival of Frah Mussa. 'Colonel Sheppard, I have sent all the villagers we could spare out to help your people search for Teyla, and I have gathered all the Frah's together for a meeting. Would you care to join us?'

'Uh,' he flicked his eyes up to Ronon and saw to glaze of boredom come over him. 'Sure. Ronon, you can get back to the search if you'd prefer.'

'I'm not leaving you here alone,' he insisted.

'I'm not alone. I'm gonna be in a meeting with the Frahs. Go on, I know you're itching to get back out there. I'll be fine. These guys'll look after me.'

'He will be given the very best of care,' Frah Mussa assured the Satedan, 'but you are welcome to join us if you would prefer.'

After a pause, Ronon announced, 'If you're sure you'll be okay, Sheppard.' When Sheppard signalled he should go, he crossed the floor in three long strides before disappearing out of sight.

'Will you need assistance to walk?' Frah Lisso asked as Sheppard struggled to his feet.

'No...I got it,' Sheppard insisted, but he wasn't sure if that was true. What he really needed was a straight eight hours of sleep. But something told him that wasn't a luxury he would be enjoying any time soon.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I know it's all a bit odd in this village and it's not clear who is doing what yet, but things will all eventually explain themselves. I promise! Thanks to those of you reviewing, you are all very kind. :D**

**Chapter 12 **

The meeting convened in what appeared to be some kind of wooden barn, but it was currently lying almost empty. At one end, a relatively small mound of grain sat, and at its centre, the Frah's had gathered cross-legged on the floor in a circular arrangement.

Sheppard wasted no time in joining them. His legs had just about had all the work they could take just crossing from his room to this building, and rather than embarrass himself by collapsing, he sat quickly and savoured the chance to rest.

'Thank you all for gathering so quickly,' Frah Mussa said to his brethren. 'As you will no doubt have heard by now, one of the members of Colonel Sheppard's party has gone missing. It is their firm belief that foul play was involved.'

From the window Sheppard witnessed Sarayah approach and get turned away by someone who appeared to be one of the larger Frahs, a mountain of a man almost rivalling Ronon in physique. There was no physicality involved, just a clear rejection of her attempts to enter and a gesture that told her to leave in no uncertain terms.

She didn't argue, but neither did she go far, loitering in view and catching Sheppard's eye with her piercing and furious gaze. He looked away, too tired to play her games right now.

'I do not understand why you have insisted the villagers help in this search, Frah Mussa,' one of the gathered men said – an old man with fine wisps of long white hair kissing his shoulders. 'You have lived here long enough to know it is more than likely the work of the Divine One.'

'But another in our team was attacked at the same time, and no one heard any activity from the...Divine One,' Sheppard interrupted, drawing the man's aged pale blue eyes toward him. 'She was only yards from the camp. If it had appeared that way, it would have been seen and heard, wouldn't it?'

'It does seem odd that he did not make his presence felt at such close proximity. The light he emits alone should have been enough to draw the attention of the others out there with her. And when considering also the attack on Dr McKay...' Lisso agreed.

The elderly man nodded, just faintly, but then asked. 'But what has anyone here to gain by taking the woman? I can think of no reason why anyone from this village would wish her harm.'

'Frah Neggo, there are some in this village who might have committed desperate acts before coming here to be judged. Though it is not our business to evaluate others, we all know many of those here harbour dark deeds in their pasts. The possibility is not without merit,' Mussa said sternly.

'Even I have done things in my past I am ashamed of. Am I suspected, too?' Neggo asked, frowning angrily now at the colonel. Sheppard knew making these people take a stance and judge others went against everything they stood for. He seemed to be in the habit of re-writing societies' rules a lot where Sarayah was concerned.

'Look, I know I'm throwing your lives into chaos here, but Teyla is a valued member of my team, and if she's out there somewhere, lying injured and in need of help, I for one would like to find her.'

'As would I,' Frah Lisso responded, adding the weight of his support. 'So, if anyone has seen anything untoward or knows of anyone who left the village last night...'

Another of the Frahs spoke up now. 'We all retire to our quarters at night. The only person who we can safely say remained in her room at all times is Sarayah because many of us took turns to watch her door.'

Those words wrapped up Sheppard's feelings nicely. She was the only person in the village with an alibi, other than his own team. She'd set it up that way with her frightened little girl act. That couldn't be a coincidence.

'Is there any way in and out of the buildings other than the doors. Could she have slipped out of a window or something?'

'You believe Sarayah had a hand in this?' that same Frah asked. 'But I have just said she never left her room.'

'Not by the door, no.'

'Colonel Sheppard and Sarayah have had a ...difficult past,' Frah Mussa explained. 'It is only natural that his suspicions should fall on her.'

'Why...what has she done to him?' Frah Neggo demanded. 'Did Frah Picca not just say she is the only one amongst us to be accounted for?'

'I'm just asking questions, throwing ideas out there. I'm not accusing her of anything...yet,' Sheppard assured him.

As he gazed around at the agitated faces surrounding him, Sheppard could feel their support slipping away. Here he was, a virtual stranger, coming into their lives and throwing their systems and practices into chaos, asking them to make assessments and judgments they had long since washed their hands of in favour of divine intervention. If he'd done this back on Earth, asked people of faith to change their ways just to help him, he would have been laughed out of town by now. The fact these guys were still sitting down and listening to him spoke volumes for their patience and tolerance.

'I know I'm asking a lot of you people, but I would really appreciate any information you can give me.'

'There is a way out of the buildings, but not one Sarayah would be aware of,' Frah Mussa told him, much to the apparent dismay of the others gathered there. A rumble of displeasure erupted among them, as if he had passed on a secret meant for no one else's ears.

Frah Mussa held up his hand to silence them. 'I believe Colonel Sheppard can be trusted with this information, and I am making the decision to elucidate for him. On my head be it.'

Though it was more than apparent the others still didn't approve, they fell silent and allowed him to continue.

'There are tunnels beneath the buildings of this village that form a network of escape routes should the Wraith come in ships and attack the planet. We have had no need to use them in many generations, but all Frahs are aware of them so they will be able to steer others to safety in a culling.'

'But none of the others in the village know?' Sheppard clarified.

'No. They have no need of the information. We will keep them safe should the Wraith come...and they have not come here for many revolutions, not since their vessel was destroyed above Guedeseo.'

'Actually,' all eyes now turned to Frah Picca, who had spoken up quite sheepishly. 'Sarayah is possibly aware of the tunnels.'

'Why would she be?' Neggo growled, his old voice rattling with annoyance.

'She asked me to help her learn to read our writings. I saw no harm and picked out some texts, one of which told a tale of villagers escaping from the Wraith through the tunnel network. She asked if it was true, but I told her it was nothing more than a story. I had thought that was the end of the matter.'

'You lied to her?'

Picca looked suitable ashamed at the accusation. 'Yes, but it was only to protect the secret.'

'Well, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to have worked,' Sheppard pointed out. 'I think someone used them to get into my room two nights ago, and I'm assuming none of you gentlemen felt the need to be quite so stealthy.'

'Are you certain?' Mussa asked, clearly shocked by the revelation.

'Absolutely...and there's only one person I know in this village who would want to do something like that.'

'But that doesn't prove she is involved in the kidnapping of your friend,' Neggo pointed out.

'Unless the tunnels stretch far outside the village...which I assume they do. If she's been messing around in my room, then you can be sure she knows those tunnels go further.'

Of course she did, and if the tunnels ran direct from the village to the 'gate, without the difficult terrain to negotiate, and at the speeds he knew Sarayah could run, that probably explained how she had managed to abduct Teyla, hide her, and make it back to the village before the alarm was raised with him.

The Frahs all spoke among themselves in a low whisper, considering their next move. Sheppard could tell they were unimpressed with being drawn into his argument with Sarayah. He was causing havoc, throwing their simple lives into disarray. Trouble followed him like a constant shadow, always clinging at his heels. Now he was wrecking these peoples' lives, too. How many more innocents would have to pay for his stubborn refusal to give ground to Sarayah?

He looked out of the window and found her still staring at him, her eyes drilling into him and speaking of the unspeakable things she wanted to do to him for defying her yet again. The meeting was coming to an end...he could feel that...and soon he would have to go out there and face her. Suddenly, sending Ronon out of the village without him didn't seem like such a hot idea. No, he decided, Teyla needed Ronon's tracking skills more than he needed his fists. He could handle Sarayah. He had his guns and a radio; he was set. But how he wished that radio would strike up with an announcement from Carter that they'd found Teyla, fixed the gate and they could go home.

Without warning, a cracking noise rocked the whole room, and Sheppard felt a shower of dust and light rubble fall on him. Instinctively covering his head, he became aware of the brilliant blue glow the moment he dared open his eyes. The air was alive with static and a hum that buzzed right through him, strange but oddly familiar. He lifted his head, seeing the other Frahs looking similarly stunned, but gradually they all scrambled to their knees and began to pray to the twisting, spinning light in front of them.

Sheppard felt no such compulsion; he was more disturbed by the fact that several chunks of the roof continued to fall, narrowly missing them. The light blinked out as suddenly as it appeared, sending another dusting down into the room, and leaving the structure groaning in distress.

'I think I may have made a mistake, Colonel Sheppard. I no longer believe the Divine One is warning you...I believe he has chosen you – to become one of us. Never before has it appeared to one person so many times without claiming them. I think it has chosen you for a purpose,' Frah Mussa breathed.

Sheppard shook his head, giving the Frah a crooked smile. 'No divine being in its right mind would choose me above you guys –' Another downfall of rubble stopped him in mid sentence and set them all choking. 'We have to get out of here,' Sheppard choked. 'Everyone get to the door...NOW!'

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing Frah Neggo and dragging the frail old man along with him as he bolted for the exit. In the last seconds as the doorway loomed close, he heard the telltale cracks of failing roof trusses and launched himself for the opening, twisting onto his back to shield the older man from the brunt of the fall.

His ears were filled with the sound of splintering wood and falling masonry, dust rising and filling his eyes, nose and lungs in a choking blanket of pulverised debris. He was vaguely aware of Neggo crawling free from his grip as he was engulfed by the coughing fit of all coughing fits, rolling onto his knees and trying not to rub his irritated eyes as they streamed channels of cleansing tears down his dirt-encrusted cheeks. Next, he felt hands upon him, dragging him clear just as the sound of a huge chunk of building collapsing rang out behind him.

Then, someone was shaking him, and a voice broke through the chaos. 'What have you been telling them about me? What lies have you sewn now?'

He couldn't have answered Sarayah even if he wanted to, the coughs rattling out of him in quick succession thanks to the dust irritating the tissue lining his throat. He grasped at her hands trying to pull them away from his shirt so he could distance himself from her. 'Get...' he immediately broke out coughing again, 'y' hands...off!'

Thankfully, a few of the less shocked Frahs stepped forward to separate them. 'Leave him be, Sarayah. Can you not see the state he is in?' he heard Lisso protest.

'Why was I not called to the meeting? I thought nothing was hidden in your village...no one is judged, isn't that your motto?'

'You were not the only one not invited, Sarayah,' Frah Mussa chimed in, positioning his bulk between the woman and the colonel.

Someone brought water and poured some of it onto Sheppard's eyes to flush out the gritty dust before allowing him to wash out his mouth and drink. Now, he could see Sarayah a little better he recognised the anger in her expression. They were pushing her too hard...they needed to back off before she lost it.

'It was a meeting about our presence in the village,' he lied, trying to defend them. 'The Frahs think my people and I are a disruptive influence, they were just asking us to try to fit in more.'

'Lies!' she hissed. 'If you are not judging me, why was I not asked to help in the hunt for Teyla?'

'You have already expressed your discomfort around the colonel and his people...we did not believe you would want to help,' Frah Mussa told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently but firmly tugging her way from Sheppard. 'The events of the past day have been quite stressful for all of us; perhaps you would like to talk to me, Sarayah? Do you feel unburdening yourself would help sooth your temper?'

Why didn't he just stand on a box with a banner saying ,"Sarayah did it!". The fury blazing in her eyes told Sheppard she knew what they were accusing her of, and he sensed a desperation rising in her. That wasn't good. Sarayah was unpredictable at the best of times. If she thought she was cornered, who knew what she would do? But the words had been spoken and the damage they had caused couldn't be undone. He watched her walk away through stinging, unfocused eyes, recognising the tension in her poise. She wanted to lash out, but she was holding it in, repressing her true nature because now was not the right time to unleash her anger.

Sheppard allowed himself to be guided back to his own room with promises he would be watched as he rested. After ascertaining the location of the tunnel exit nearest the 'gate from Frah Mussa, he radioed the latest information through to Carter, advising her it might be wise to search the tunnels as they would provide the ideal hiding place for Teyla to be kept in since Sarayah hadn't had time to get any further away than that before heading back to her dwelling. Sam asked him if he wanted a guard at the village, but he insisted they all stay out on the search. It was broad daylight, and there were dozens of people about, carrying out their various duties. Even Sarayah couldn't think that was a good moment to strike...could she? Well, maybe she would, but he still needed as many people looking for Teyla as possible. He had his weapons; he could look after himself.

At least he could if he made sure she couldn't sneak in again. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he scoured the floor finding the faint outline of a hatch right at the end of his bed. It was practically invisible if he hadn't known to look for it. He used the finger hole cleverly concealed within a natural knot in the wood to pull it open, finding it lifted with relative ease. The hinges had clearly been recently greased to ensure they wouldn't creak; when he wiped his finger along them he found them thick with some kind of animal fat.

Wiping his hands on his trousers and grabbing his pack, Sheppard pulled out his torch and shone it down there, highlighting the footprints lining the damp ground, but no dirt at all on the ladder leading up to the hatch. She'd taken off her shoes to make sure she left no tracks, but, now he was down at floor level, he could see slight marks in the dust beneath his bed as he shone his light under it. She had crept right underneath him as he'd slept to take his sweatband. The thought made him shudder, and before he could settle, he dragged the nightstand from beside one of the other beds on top of the hatch to keep it shut. Okay, so it wasn't heavy enough to stop her if she really wanted to get in , but at least he'd hear her coming.

That done, he lay back on the bed and tried to get some rest, his mind drifting back to the look on Sarayah's face when Frah Mussa had asked if she needed to talk. The insinuation of those words had been clear for all there to hear, and he had to wonder how long it would be before the community felt the aftermath of the Frah's careless allegation.

oooOOOooo

After trying unsuccessfully once again to re-route power via different circuits in case they were missing a fault, Rodney sat back and gave a heartfelt sigh. His anger at their situation had left him now, replaced by confusion, desperation and disconsolation. He and Sam should have been all over this thing. Between them, they knew just about everything there was to know about 'gate technology, and Zelenka and a team of their best scientists were also working on the problem back on Atlantis via simulations constructed from their transmitted data, but they were no further along now than when he'd first attempted to fix it.

'This is insane!' he whined. 'We've tried everything to ensure power and communications between the DHD and the 'gate are aligned and nothing works.'

'Then we obviously haven't tried everything,' Sam pointed out patiently, continuing her analysis of the latest results. 'Everything works as we would expect, right up to the moment we punch in for a connection, then...nothing. We've stripped the DHD down and reassembled it from pretty much scratch, so perhaps we should be focusing on the 'gate itself. Something is stopping the message getting through...and as far as I can tell, it isn't the DHD.'

McKay stood up, dusting off his trousers and giving her a lop-sided smile. 'Are you suggesting we take the gate apart and reassemble that? Because I think we're gonna need help!'

'No. I don't think it's anything physically wrong with it. Ancient tech is pretty sturdy, and the 'gate isn't even showing any signs of damage. I suppose there's a slight chance that, in the whole of the gate system, one might turn out to be a dud, but with something this crucial, I don't think they would leave it to chance.'

'So you think something is stopping the signal getting through? Like that anomaly? Thing is, I checked the connection when that thing was miles away from here and still couldn't get through.'

Sam stood up now, too, hands on hips and staring at the 'gate as if waiting for some kind of divine inspiration.

Rodney took a moment to admire the woman while she was lost in thought. He'd got used to having Sam around on Atlantis now, and hadn't embarrassed himself in front of her once recently. His relationship with Katie had helped to keep a lid on his infatuation, though now she and he were no longer an item, he often found his mind wandering to his Sam Carter fantasies again. Still, relieved as he had originally been to find Sam couldn't solve the problem any better than he could, he now decided he would quite happily swallow his pride if she could pull some kind of miracle out of her ass.

Apparently, things back at the village were going no better. Sheppard's message to them had been concise and calm, but the colonel couldn't fool him. Those times when he was so direct and humourless were the times when he was seriously worried, and Rodney understood his concerns. People who challenged Sarayah's integrity rarely came away from the experience unscathed. And he couldn't help but feel the only reason Sheppard had insisted he was safe was because he wanted all available people searching the tunnel network for clues of Teyla's whereabouts. It was just like him to put everyone else first.

He'd seen the same thought in Carter's eyes, too. She might not have worked with Sheppard for as long as he had, but Sam was good at reading people...it was probably a woman thing. They were almost psychic when it came to things like that...not that he believed in psychics, but, well, women seemed to be able to read his mind as if it were printed out in large type and posted on a billboard. This was one time he was kind of glad he was only good at the science stuff. The other troops had moved their search down into the tunnels, and with his claustrophobia, that would have been a waking nightmare, even with Sam for company.

Carter turned his way in time to catch the tail end of his dreamy look. Casting him a disparaging glance, she launched into a new theory.

'You said this planet was a research outpost, right?'

Rodney nodded, recalling what data had been intact in the files held on Atlantis. 'Yes, apparently they were working on something to make travelling the galaxy, perhaps beyond, much easier, but that's all I could glean. All the data held was corrupted and try as we did, Zelenka and I couldn't repair it.

'What if it was deliberately corrupted?'

Rodney frowned. 'Why would they do that? That doesn't make sense.'

She looked at the gate again, chewing the inside of her cheek in thought. 'It depends how important that research was. Perhaps if it fell into enemy hands it could be potentially devastating.'

For someone smart, Sam sometimes came up with the most crazy theories. 'So, they corrupted it so even they couldn't use the data?'

'If it really is corrupted,' she mused. 'Or maybe it just behaves that way if you try to access it before going through the correct protocols.'

'Maybe there's some kind of code that has to be entered first...' Rodney mused along with her. 'Then the files unlocks...hmmm, well, it's possible...certainly worth checking.'

'And if they coded the files, maybe – and this is just hypothetical of course – maybe they also added some kind of code to the 'gate...to ensure anyone following them here and trying to escape via the gate would be trapped here.'

'Like dialling 9 for an outside line?' Now that was a distinct possibility, a failsafe to stop their top-secret research falling into the wrong hands and being removed from the planet. But although they might be onto something, his heart sank again when he began calculating the possibilities of them finding the code to unlock the gate. 'But...but if that's the case, and we need to find the code the...the..'

'The permutations are astronomical, yes,' Sam nodded. 'So, I think our starting point has to be the Ancient research facility. Maybe, if we can wire up a naquadah generator, we can get the database there running for long enough to pick up some information that would at least give us a clue where to start.'

Rodney checked his watch. The next scheduled contact from Atlantis was in forty-five minutes. He could probably start running the figures...

'Okay, time for a break. We eat, we drink, we wait for contact and then once we have the generator we head to the facility.'

'We'll I could just make a start –'

'Rodney, take a break. That's an order,' Sam told him. 'We've been working on this for five hours now and I think we are both pretty much number blind. Besides, I'd hate for you to go hypoglycaemic on me.'

She sat down pulling an MRE from her pack as she smirked up at him, and he realised that he was actually feeling a little light-headed, though that could have been down to the bump he was still nursing. It was a good job Sam cared enough to remember his condition, because sometimes he got so consumed by his work he forgot.

He sat beside her, rummaging for his own meal and curling his nose as he got his first whiff of the contents. Well, it was either hypoglycaemia or potential food poisoning, and right now his grumbling stomach and woozy head said he should take the risk.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: As always, a quick thank you to those of you still reading and reviewing. It's much appreciated. :D**

**Chapter 13 **

After updating Carter about the news from the village and assuring her he was safe in the hands of the Frahs, Sheppard's exhaustion had claimed him and dragged him into fitful slumbers. His dreams had revolved around various scenarios, all of them involving Sarayah and ending badly for him. Even in his dreams her cruelty knew no bounds; she had him torturing himself now.

He woke gradually, the sound of his screams echoing in his ears and growing distant as his brain roused, only to be replaced by other screams...more like panicked cries actually...coming from outside in the village square.

Mindlessly fumbling for his sidearm, he fell out of bed and scrambled to his feet, finding a scratchy note in broken English pushed under the door to the outside. It read "Downt drinc tha wahtur". What the hell did that mean? And who, other than his own people, would know how to write in an Earth based script anyway?

Sarayah?

_Downt drinc tha wahtur._

In the past year, she'd had a lot of contact with the medical staff from Atlantis. There was a chance she'd picked up enough about the alphabet from various sources to scribe a phonetic note.

_Downt drinc tha wahtur._

'Don't drink the water!' he breathed, flinging open the door and half-running, half-stumbling out into the open air where the noise grew louder still. There were people lying strewn around the ground, writhing and crying out in pain as their bodies went into spasm. Poisoned. They'd all been poisoned. He recognised the symptoms.

Hardly able to comprehend what his eyes were showing him, he staggered towards the nearest person, a young man, his body contorting as he lay in a pool of his own vomit. He rolled him onto his side, but the poor guy obviously had no idea what was going on, lashing out as Sheppard's hands made contact with him. He remembered the way his own skin had seared at the slightest touch and immediately let go, looking around for some kind of inspiration on what he should do to help him.

'Colonel Sheppard!' a woman's voice yelled at him. He scoured the vicinity, spotting Meritza trying to hold another victim still. 'Please, you have to help me!'

He rushed over to her, activating his radio. 'Colonel Carter, this is Sheppard. We have a situation in the village. We need Dr Keller back here now!'

As he reached the man Meritza was trying to help, one of the Frahs judging by his clothing, Carter responded. _'John? What's happening? Are you all right?'_

'I'm good, but we have multiple civilians down in the village...looks like poisoning,' he replied as he dropped his gun and used his one good arm to pin the man she was attending, leaning his forearm and as much of his bodyweight as he could to press the thrashing man's shoulders to the ground.

'_Poison? The lantha berries?'_ he heard Sam ask, but he couldn't answer, it was taking all his efforts to keep the struggling Frah still. Eventually, when Meritza felt she had poured enough antidote into his mouth to counteract the sickness, she signalled that he could let go.

'Uh, yeah. Looks that way. We're gonna treat as many as we can, but there's a lot!'

'All right, we'll head back.'

Meritza had already darted away to another victim, and from the pleading look in her eyes expected him to help her again. He forced his leaden legs on in her direction, dropping to his knees to help restrain the writhing form, this time a woman around his own age. 'We must hurry,' Meritza gasped between pants to catch her breath. 'Only a handful of us are unaffected and it takes at least two to be able to treat each person. If we are not quick, we will lose some of them...that is if we even have enough serum to treat them. I am sure some is missing...I always keep a tally –'

'We'll do it,' Sheppard assured her, flinching as one of the woman's knees came up sharply into his stomach. He pressed it back down then held down both her legs with his right shin while leaning his forearm across her chest.

Again, Meritza poured the medicine in, ensuring the woman had swallowed enough to be of benefit before they moved on.

They worked furiously, rushing from one, screaming, convulsing body to the next, each one progressively weaker and easier to control. Though it made his job simpler he knew it was a bad sign, and he silently willed those still untreated to hold on until they could get to them. Sadly, some were simply not strong enough.

When the rolled Frah Neggo's still body onto its back, it was clear to see they were too late for him. His eyes stared up at them, sightless and glazed, his skin waxen and his lips tinged blue. Around them, the others who had been fighting to save the villagers were also looking dazed and helpless, a sure sign they too could find no one left worth treating.

Sheppard sat back in the dirt and surveyed the carnage. Everywhere he looked people lay sick and feverish, twisted up with pain, and those that didn't look that way...those were the ones who hadn't made it.

He dropped his head into his hands, his body aching with his own exertions and lingering after effects, trying to fathom why Sarayah had seen fit to do this rather than just run. But this was what Sarayah did when cornered - she lashed out. And deep down he felt partly responsible.

'Thank you for your help, Colonel,' he heard a familiar voice say.

He lifted his head to respond to Frah Lisso. 'I'm just sorry I couldn't do more.'

'This is Sarayah's doing. She waited until the majority of us had gathered for dinner and she had served them before announcing she had poisoned the water they were drinking. She must have used the more potent lantha berries because the effects were so sudden and strong. We couldn't keep everyone in one place to treat them...they were too delirious to control. You tried to warn us of her nature, Colonel, but we were unwilling to listen.'

'It's not your way to judge...I get that.'

'Perhaps that is why you were brought here. Perhaps we need someone who isn't afraid to judge to deal with Sarayah.'

Beside him, Meritza began to sob in to her hands. 'This is all my fault. Sarayah asked about the poison and the serum last night and I told her everything she wanted to know. I though she wanted to understand so she could help if someone was poisoned again. But she used what I told her against us!'

Frah Lisso put his arm around her to offer comfort, but Meritza was inconsolable.

The sound of boots crunching dirt heralded the arrival of Carter and the others, Jennifer a little way behind and McKay bringing up the rear.

Sam looked around, her blue eyes huge with disbelief. 'My God! Sarayah did all this?'

'Frah Lisso tells me she poisoned their drinking water when they got together to eat. Easy way to hit them all at once.'

Colonel Sheppard has been a great help to us...twice today, in fact. He is a fine example of your people,' Frah Lisso told her. 'You are all assets to our community. We would be glad if you could stay...especially now.'

Not one to take compliments easily, Sheppard concentrated on keeping the flush from his cheeks and gestured for Ronon to haul him to his feet. 'Any news on Teyla?'

'We found tracks, just a few that someone had tried to cover near where we think she disappeared from, but it's hard to tell who they belong to,' his friend told him.

McKay ran flat-footed to join them, pressing at a stitch pain in his side. 'What did the cra...zy bitch do...now?' Only then, as his breath came back, did he take the time to look around. 'Oh, no! You said multiple casualties, but I didn't think you meant this many!'

Dr Keller was already busy with one patient. 'We're gonna need saline and rehydration powders, Colonel Carter,' she called over. 'These people are seriously dehydrated and I used all the appropriate medicines I had with me on Colonel Sheppard.'

'Next time Major Lorne makes contact I'll put in a request,' Carter responded. 'You just tell me how much we need.'

'Frah Mussa...is he okay?' Sheppard asked.

'We treated him...he should recover, unlike those poor, less fortunate souls...'

The clarity of Lisso's pain as he looked down at Frah Neggo was too much for Sheppard to watch. He should have acted...should have done the right thing and taken her prisoner no matter how bad it would have made them look to the inhabitants of Guedeseo. Now...now they'd found out what she was like the hard way. He'd let them down...he'd let Teyla down, too.

'If she poisoned the water, does that mean the well is out of commission?' he asked Lisso. 'Do we need to bring fresh water to you?'

'Not necessarily. We store water over near the dining hall for our mealtimes; the well itself might be untouched.'

'It's more likely she poisoned the stored water,' Sam nodded. 'That way she could guarantee the concentration of the poison. The well might have diluted it too much.'

'So, what? You got into a disagreement with her, so she decides to wipe everyone out?' Rodney asked.

'Where were you when the others were eating, Colonel?' Jennifer interrupted, coming to join them.

'I was asleep in our room...just like you told me to.'

She nodded sagely, as if she had suspected as much. 'This wasn't as random as it appears. She timed this specifically so none of us was affected, only the villagers. We know she's very intelligent, and highly manipulative –'

'Tell me about it!' Sheppard muttered, remembering just how easily she'd twisted most of the Atrascans around her little finger.

'Sociopaths are highly motivated and highly successful individuals, and they will not stop until they get what they want.'

'So what was all this for...exactly?' Rodney asked, his eyes darting around the faces surrounding him, looking for clues.

'To give Colonel Sheppard a message, I think,' she said, her voice petering away as he fixed her with a piercing glare. 'I'm sorry, Colonel. But this was most likely done for your benefit...not that I mean benefit in the beneficial way, of course.'

Jennifer always stammered when nervous, so Sheppard averted his angry gaze from her to the ground. 'And what message am I supposed to get from this?'

'That she's in control, I guess,' she replied. He knew she'd followed it with a shrug without even seeing it; the inflection told him as much.

'So, you're saying she never intended Colonel Sheppard to get hurt?' Sam clarified.

'No, that's why she picked a time while he was sleeping.'

Sheppard remembered the note, pulling the crumpled scrap of paper from his pocket along with a shower of dry dirt that had collected in there while he wrestled with the suffering villagers. 'She left this under my door,' he muttered, passing it to Sam.

She read it, frowning a moment until the meaning became clear. 'Wow, seems she really didn't intend for you to get poisoned after all.'

Feeling guilty, Sheppard tried to find some direction to look in where he wouldn't have to see the aftermath of Sarayah's work. It wasn't easy. Her message was scrawled just about all over the village. She really was in control. And she still had Teyla.

'She wanted me to see this because she knew they were coming round to us, starting to see our point about her being dangerous. She hurt them to put me in my place, and if she thinks hurting virtual strangers will get to me –'

'I'm gonna get back out there and find Teyla,' Ronon growled, and he stalked away back out of the village without another word.

Sheppard watched him go. Even though he knew his friend's anger was with Sarayah and not him, he couldn't help feeling at some level Ronon might blame him for this; he certainly blamed himself. The sky had grown cloudy during the mayhem, and now large spots of rain began to splatter on the ground, damping down the dust at their feet.

Then, remembering he'd left his gun near the first victim he and Meritza had treated, he stalked toward where the man still lay, now much quieter as the antidote gradually counteracted the poison's effects. He was exactly where they had left him, the gun, however, wasn't there.

Sheppard spun around, checking the ground in the vicinity in case it had be knocked aside during the struggle to medicate him, but no, it was still nowhere in sight.

'Oh, crap,' he breathed, running a hand back through his hair in despair. She'd been in the village the whole time these people were practically dying, and now she had a weapon.

'What is it, John?' Sam asked, following him.

'My gun...I dropped it here to help Meritza...I shouldn't have left it.'

'And it's gone?'

He lifted his eyes to hers, reading the shock there. 'Yeah...I'm sorry...she must have still been here and...and I didn't have time –'

'Nobody's blaming you, John,' she assured him, reaching out to lay a steadying hand on his shoulder. 'You did what you had to do to help these people. You couldn't have known she was watching. But now she's armed...we have to step up our game.'

The rain was falling heavier now. Jennifer caught up to them, shoulders hunched against the downpour. 'We need to get these people cleaned up and in their beds,' Keller ordered. We can't leave them out here; it looks like there's a storm coming.'

As Sheppard watched Carter swing into action, organising their people to begin the operation, Sheppard couldn't help but wonder just how prophetic those words might turn out to be.

oooOOOooo

Within the hour the heavens had opened. All the recovering poison victims were safely inside and being cleaned up and made comfortable while Lorne's team trekked to the gate to pick up much needed medical supplies.

'Ronon, this is Sheppard. Come in.'

Sheppard stared out of the window into the gloom, watching the rain hammering down into swelling puddles. They hadn't heard from Ronon since his sudden departure, and Sheppard needed to check he was okay. But he'd been trying for ten minutes and the man just would not answer his radio. The trouble was, Ronon's lack of communication didn't necessarily mean trouble, but with Sarayah out there and armed, he didn't want to take any chances.

'Ronon, answer your damned radio or I'm gonna kick your ass when I next see you!' he demanded, his voice now edged with panic.

'Sheppard?' his friend's familiar voice rumbled.

Sheppard dropped his forehead against the window, feeling relief flood his body. 'Ronon, I swear you'll be the death of me. Next time I contact you, you damn well answer. Understood.'

'I was going for stealth.'

'Well, one quick answer would have been a lot quieter than me continually trying to hail you, don't you think?'

'I guess. What's up?'

There were benefits to Ronon's casual style sometimes, but not right now. Right now, it was pissing him off. 'What's up is we have a woman on the loose who is pretty much picking off people at her leisure, and you can't even be bothered to answer when I call you,' Sheppard snapped. He looked back over his shoulder at Rodney and Sam, who worked frenetically on the data they'd collected earlier before being recalled to the village. His sharpness had broken even their concentration, so he threw them an apologetic smile before turning back to the window. 'Where are you?'

'I'm at the site Teyla disappeared from, trying to pick up more tracks.'

Though he knew if anyone could find them, Ronon could, Sheppard couldn't help but feel whatever he'd spotted had been left there deliberately. Sarayah was a natural hunter and a tracker; she knew every trick there was to covering her tracks. That was how she'd snuck in and out if their room so easily.

'I'll come and join you,' he said, checking his P-90 and starting out for the door

Carter planted herself in his path before he could take more than a few paces. 'Uh, I don't think that's a good idea, John.'

He stopped and stared at her, wondering just what she expected him to do. 'We have everyone settled, Lorne's team is picking up medical supplies, and you guys are busy with 'gate theory. I can't just sit here on my hands doing nothing. So please, don't ask me to.'

'Didn't you hear anything Jennifer said, John?' she asked, standing firm. 'She's sending you a message; she's drawing you out.'

'Teyla is missing, eleven people are dead and at least three more of those we treated are touch and go, so yes, I heard Dr Keller, but Ronon is out there alone. Tell me how that is a good thing?' he demanded, raising his voice far more than he'd intended to.

She blinked, computing his comment. If Sarayah was using others to make a point, then one of his team out in the woods alone was not wise, he knew that, and now she did, too.

'All right,' she conceded, 'But take Major Garcia and Sergeant Newman with you for support. I don't want you alone out there either.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' he replied, rushing past her and gathering the two officers on his way out.

The sickly grey sky was illuminated almost instantly as lightning sliced across its expanse, almost cleaving it in half. Fat raindrops bounced up several inches from the ground all around them as they ran across the square. In a matter of seconds they were soaked to the skin, Major Garcia's long, dark ponytail flicking water from side to side as she kept up the pace.

Each thudding step in the thick mud, sent an ache through his injured arm, the field splint supporting it but doing little for the discomfort. But Sheppard couldn't waste time on it. They needed to find Sarayah and get her to take them to Teyla. His thin shirt clung to his skin, and he wished he'd taken the time to ask Jennifer for his own shirt back, but he'd been distracted. He supposed it didn't matter; it was just another triviality distracting him from what needed to be done. The mud in the woods skirting the village and leading on toward the gate was thicker, more clay like, and clung to his boots, making them progressively heavier as they continued on. The other two, both younger and in better health were constantly ahead of him, but he didn't worry. He used them, following their lead when his own weakness and nausea threatened to overcome him. He had to prove he was still up to the challenge of military commander, to himself if no one else. He had to prove Sarayah hadn't beaten him...not even slowed him. He would find Teyla, and she would be fine. She had to be.

Thunderclaps rang out like cannon fire, and water coursed down from the overhead canopy, drenching them and making it difficult to see in the ever-fading light. It was late afternoon now, and with the invading storm there was little light left to see by.

Eventually, the made it to the site Ronon was checking. The huge man stood impassively as he watched them arrive, rain dripping from his dreadlocks and beard

Sheppard swiped a hand down his face, momentarily clearing the excess moisture from his vision. 'Anything?'

From the anger burning in his friend's eyes Sheppard already knew the answer. He'd found nothing more, and that was exactly what Sarayah would have wanted. She'd done just enough to let them know she was there, but not enough that they could trace her movements. It was the wristband all over again, just another sign that she held all the cards. He shivered involuntarily, unsure if it was due to the rain or the creepy feeling he had that she was watching them even now.

'Okay, let's spread out and perform a parallel sweep. Stay in radio contact and report anything strange. You got that, Ronon?'

Ronon nodded, a sharp jerk of his head that spoke volumes. He was reining himself in, but if he got the chance, Sheppard knew he would tear Sarayah limb from limb.

'And if any of you stumble across Sarayah, take her down but try not to kill her. We need her to tell us what she did with Teyla.'

With rain cascading down their faces, the other three nodded their understanding and set off.

'Ronon.'

The Satedan turned to peer back over his shoulder at Sheppard.

'Set it to stun...now.'

Looking sour, Ronon did as he was asked, then stalked away. Sheppard really hoped Ronon wasn't the one to find the woman; right now he was one huge bundle of pent up rage and adrenalin, and if he took her down, he doubted he'd be able to hold back.

Lifting his P-90, Sheppard joined in the search. The gloom was deepening with each passing minute as afternoon crept towards night, agonisingly slowly. He switched on the light on his P-90 and kept moving forward, knowing it would give his position away if Sarayah was around, but at the same time hoping it would. He was ready for her, armed this time. She didn't want him dead, the note had said as much, so if she tried to jump him she would give her position away and they might just be able to catch her.

His feet sank into the softening ground, making sucking noises as he dragged them free that were way too loud for stealth as he moved. At least if his own feet were making so much noise Sarayah wouldn't be able to move without him hearing her either.

A cry and a heavy, squelching thud sound echoed out somewhere to his left. That had sounded decidedly female. 'Report,' he demanded.

'_I heard it, Colonel,'_ Newman responded instantly.

'_Me too,'_ Ronon concurred.

But there was nothing from Garcia. 'Major Garcia, please respond,' Sheppard urged.

Still nothing.

'Dammit!' he breathed, heading in the direction of the sound.

He found the officer lying face down in the mud, and rolled her onto her back to ensure she could breathe. Her face was caked in mud and she was semi conscious and dazed, as if she'd been hit with some kind of stun weapon herself. More worryingly, her P-90 was missing.

_Crap!_

A noise from above him made him start, a rustling in the branches that sent a heavy shower of rain down in his face, obscuring his vision. What the hell? Was she up in the trees or was that just some kind of indigenous life form hanging around up there?

'Ronon, Newman, I'm with Garcia. She's down. Be aware, target may be moving abo –'


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

As his confusion began to clear, Sheppard woke to find his mouth full of rainwater and his back cold and clammy. The shadowy trees spun around in a crazy dance above him, spiralling like autumn leaves caught up in a breeze. He lay there, lost in his bubble-wrap world, aware only vaguely of shapes and sounds around him. Was he dreaming? Had he had too much to drink? No, he was wet, wet and sticky, and...choking!

He rolled onto his side and coughed out the water that had gathered in his throat as he'd laid unconscious, aware now of the mud clinging to his clothes and the aching sensation growing throughout his body. The muffled sounds around him became more distinct – it was a voice, a voice calling his name.

'Colonel Sheppard. Colonel Sheppard, Sir. Are you all right?'

Lifting his heavy head, he saw Garcia crawling across the few feet of ground separating them, pain etched into her features. He tried to sit up, but the dizziness was too much for his brain to cope with and he fell back in the mud again as she leaned in over him.

'Colonel, are you all right?' she repeated more urgently.

'Radio...help,' he ordered, his speech still odd to his buzzing eardrums. This was all too familiar, even though a year had passed since he'd last been hit with a sonic pulse, he recalled the effects only too well. Where the hell had Sarayah got herself one of those guns? Maybe she'd found a stash left somewhere on Medulsa by the Atrascans who had jumped him for her.

Remembering the others, he activated his radio, while Garcia made the call to Carter. 'Newman, Ronon, come in.'

The silence his call met with was worrying, but he tried to calm his nerves by thinking that if she'd shot them after hitting him and Garcia, they could still be coming round.

'Newman, Ronon, Come on, guys. Make some noise.'

A fuzzy grunt followed by a _'Here, Sir,'_ told him Newman was just regaining his senses. But there was still nothing from Ronon.

Experience told Sheppard Ronon took a lot of stunning and should be alert by now. 'Ronon?'

Nothing. The forest fell silent except for the sound of rain hitting the leaves and showering down onto the ground. 'Ronon, please respond!'

It was too long – Sheppard knew that, but just didn't want to admit what it more than likely meant. Garcia squatted beside him. 'Can't raise him, Sir?'

'We need to search for him. Newman, turn on the light on your P-90 so we can make your position.'

Off to their right a faint dot of light flicked on, denoting where Newman still lay on the sodden ground. They staggered and crawled their way over to him, the ground too slippery for their weakened limbs to deal with. The sergeant was just pushing up on his elbows, rubbing his temple and almost falling down again. Somehow, between them, he and Garcia found the strength to haul Newman to his feet and hold him until he was more stable.

'Colonel Carter wants us to return to the village, Sir,' Garcia told him. 'She doesn't think there are enough of us to take on Sarayah, and with Lorne's team ferrying medical supplies and the rest of them patrolling the village, she can't spare anyone to help.'

Much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to agree that even three armed military people couldn't take her on. She was a natural at hunting and evasion, and although Ronon had spent seven years on the run from the Wraith, it seemed even the Satedan's skills didn't measure up to the challenge.

He scraped the rain and mud from his face, scouring their surroundings. 'I'm not giving up on Ronon just yet. If you guys want to go back, go ahead. I'll follow on once I know where he is.'

Their response was immediate, both of them agreeing to stick with him and continue the search, which now included tracking down one of the search team. He ordered them to head toward the tunnel entrance, hoping she was concealing the Satedan there.

Raising his weapon with aching shoulders once more, Sheppard struggled against the elements to stay on his feet and find his friend. From time to time he tried his radio, having to shout above the rumble of the thunder. But he never received a response.

They reached a bank, and the other two in his party couldn't find the strength or co-ordination to mount it when Sheppard's sheer determination helped drive him on.

At the top, he turned to survey the landscape ahead of him, a flash of lightning casting its brilliance across the ground that lay on the downward slope before him. There, at the bottom, he saw tracks...vehicle tracks. They were fresh and headed off into the distance until they met a wide stream, from where they simply disappeared.

She had a truck of some kind. The crazy bitch had gone and got herself some wheels.

'Ronon!' he yelled into his radio one last time in the futile hope his friend had been lying unconscious and undiscovered to this point.

This time, static announced an incoming message, but his momentary relief was short-lived when Sarayah's voice replied, _'I'm afraid, Ronon is unable to answer at this moment. Perhaps I can pass a message to him for you.'_

Though he wanted to scream every expletive he'd ever learned at her, Sheppard swallowed deeply and told himself it wouldn't help. He had to stay calm...as calm as she sounded.

'Your argument is with me, Sarayah. Let Teyla and Ronon go and we'll talk about this.'

A pause followed and he thought he had lost contact. Her answer, when it came, made him wish he had.

'_The time for talking has passed, John. Now it's time to atone.'_

oooOOOooo

'Where the hell did she get a truck?' Rodney demanded, his voice shrill with anxiety.

Sheppard sat on his bed, head in his hands, water dripping onto the wooden floor surrounding his hunched form. 'I'm guessing the same place she got the sonic gun. To tell you the truth, I didn't ask; she wasn't exactly in the mood for a conversation.'

'And how the hell did she take down Ronon long enough to get him to her truck? Even Wraith stunners don't knock him out first time?'

Sheppard lifted his head wearily, sending a pleading look Sam's way. 'Again, we don't know yet, Rodney. And right now that's not our major concern. We just have to find him. We'll get our answers once we have Ronon and Teyla back.'

Dr Keller bustled in from the other room where she had been treating Garcia and Newman since their return to the village. 'Okay, Colonel. No more avoidance. I need to check you out.'

Sighing, Sheppard let her run through the necessary checks to ascertain there were no serious after effects from the sonic pulse gun Sarayah had used on them. He ached from head to foot, but the residual pain was already less than it had been during his miserable trudge back to the village.

Once the tests were completed, she stood back and folded her arms across her chest to regard him. 'Well, you haven't been seriously affected by the pulse, but you don't look well.'

Glancing down at his saturated clothing, filthy and torn from his exertions, he couldn't help but huff out a laugh. 'To be fair, Doc, you're not exactly seeing me at my best.'

'I'm not talking about the dirt, Colonel. You look exhausted. I'm ordering you to sit things out for the next twenty-four hours...at least.'

'What? You have to be kidding!'

'She's right, John. Sarayah's on the run now, so let us handle this,' Sam agreed.

'Sarayah on the run is when she's at her most dangerous. We need every available person –'

'You're injured and you're too close to the problem, John. I'm ordering you to step down.'

He stood now, rather too shakily to make his point in the way he needed to, so he tried to cover his lack of strength with an excess of attitude. 'You're...ordering me? Do I have to remind you that I am the person here who knows her better than anyone else?'

'No, John, you don't. And that's exactly why I'm insisting that you stay here in the village and leave the searching to us. Everything Sarayah does is done to affect you. If she sees it has no effect, maybe she'll...lose interest.'

Sheppard blinked at her, then flicked his eyes in Jennifer's direction. He saw the doubt in her expression. She knew as well as he did that ignoring Sarayah would not break her obsession with controlling him; if anything, it would more than likely make her craving worse.

'Tell her that won't work,' he said simply.

'He's right, Colonel. People with Sarayah's condition don't just...lose interest. This is her focus; she won't stop until she's completed what she set out to do.'

'Thanks...though I could have done without the part where you made her sound like the Terminator,' he grumbled.

'Even so, you've got a head injury, a fractured arm and lacerations. On top of that you've been poisoned and now shot with a sonic pulse weapon,' Sam listed for him. 'I'm sorry to say this, John , but I think you might be a liability in your current condition.'

'My current condition is just fine,' he said through gritted teeth. Then he looked down at himself. 'Although, admittedly, I could do with a little sprucing up.'

Sam couldn't help but smile. Then, shaking her head, she relented a little. 'All right, John. Take the next twenty-four hours to rest and I'll re-evaluate your role,' she offered.

'Twenty-four hours!'

'That's the least I expect from you...and it is most definitely an order, so quit while you're ahead,' she warned him. 'Now, I suggest you get cleaned up and we all get some sleep, so the rest of us can resume work on the search and the gate in the morning.'

'In the morning? She could be miles away by then!' Rodney whined.

'Not if Colonel Sheppard's still here she won't be,' Jennifer replied, then she looked apologetically at him. 'Sorry.'

Reluctantly, Sheppard agreed to Carter's terms. He hoped that by complying now she might change her mind by morning, especially if he got a good night and looked the part.

'Okay, twenty-four hours it is. So, Doc, any chance of getting my shirts back now?' he asked, pulling his dripping clothes away from his skin to emphasise his need.

'Of course. They're in my pack. I'll go get them for you.'

Rodney paced as Sheppard tried to wipe some of the moisture from where he'd been perched on his bed with a damp hand.

'We should have had the 'gate fixed by now. We need to get off this planet before she goes completely nuts on us.'

With difficulty, Sheppard yanked his soaking wet shirt off over his head and tossed it into a corner. 'No, what we need to do is fix the 'gate so we can bring every available marine through here, hunt Sarayah down, find Teyla and Ronon and _then _get all of us off this planet before she goes "nuts". I'm not leaving her here to take it out on the villagers again.'

'I agree,' Sam nodded. 'We can't leave her here. We'll need to ensure her capture before we can completely put Guedeseo behind us.'

Jennifer stepped back into the room, looking pale and shocked. Sheppard couldn't help but notice the lack of clothing in her hands. 'Changed you mind on the clothes, huh?' he ventured hopefully.

She swallowed hard before explaining. 'They're gone. I had them in my pack under my bed, and now they're gone.'

'Oh, now that's just creepy,' Rodney sneered. 'What is it with Sarayah and stealing your stuff?'

'That's not the worst of it,' Jennifer said, raising her voice above the ranting scientist's. 'Ten doses of the sedative I brought to keep her under control are gone, too. They were in the same pack.'

Her words hit Sheppard as hard as any right hook could. Sarayah and drugs were a bad mixture, a very bad mixture. 'Well, that's not the best news I've had today,' he quipped, his heart thundering against his ribs. He turned his back so they couldn't see how scared that thought had him, taking a moment to collect himself. Behind him, he heard Rodney suck in a breath through his teeth, and remembered the scarring on his back from his previous two encounters with his mad stalker. Self-conscious about the marks she'd left on him, he'd been pretty careful not to let others see them, but his momentary distraction had caused him to drop his guard.

He turned back again, catching Rodney's pained expression before he could mask it, as well as Carter's shock.

'Well, at least we know how she managed to over-power the big fella now,' McKay said quietly, trying to fill the awkward silence.

'Rodney, give John your jacket,' Sam instructed him.

'What? Oh...sure.'

McKay shrugged out of his coat and tossed it Sheppard's way. The fit wasn't great, but it was better than nothing.

'I'm gonna go see if I can rustle you up some dry clothes,' Jennifer offered, thumbing toward the door over her shoulder.

'We have more important things to do first,' Sheppard told her. 'If Sarayah is likely to hang around like you think she might, we need to make sure every access hatch to the tunnels in this village is blocked so she can't take anyone else. We know she has the means now. And we also need to secure the food and water supplies before she poisons or starves everyone here.'

'Agreed,' Sam nodded, standing and stretching out her limbs. 'Let's get to it.'

Sheppard stood back and let them exit before him, tugging the jacket down to cover his waist. Though he tried to stay focused on the here and now, his mind kept wandering to what Sarayah was doing with his friends. Taking Teyla was enough to get his attention, yet she's played innocent long enough to get Ronon, too. If she wanted to punish him, she could have just killed them and left them where he could find them. And if she still wanted to get her talons into him, why hadn't she dragged him away when she'd stunned him with the sonic pulse gun? This was all part of some kind of plan. He just hadn't quite figured out what that plan was yet.

oooOOOooo

After almost four hours of driving, with the stars and orbiting satellites the only light other than the insipid headlights illuminating the ground ahead of her, Sarayah slowed the vehicle and drew to a halt outside one of numerous wooden buildings forming one of the migratory stage points on Guedeseo.

The vehicle was one she'd stolen from Atrasca before heading for Guedeseo itself. During her sessions with Dr Heightmeyer, she had gleaned enough information to know the Wraith had attacked the planet, leaving the population decimated. So, she had taken her chances, knowing they had the technologies she needed, and hoping they would put up no resistance.

On arriving there, the scene before her had been truly shocking. The planet was ravaged, and the place where the villagers had once lived on the surface had been razed to the ground, leaving nothing but the scorched remnants of shelters and numerous dried up husks that had once been living souls. Forging on to the underground facility, she had found the lift shaft disabled and as such had been forced to climb down the hundreds of feet to reach the level where all the research and development of the Atrascan society had taken place, almost killing herself in the process. But the pain and the lacerations to her hands and inner arms, mostly from sliding down the cables that connected to the left car, had been a small price to pay when she had reached the bottom and found the weapons and supplies she'd needed to help set up her trap.

Ignoring the bodies lying strewn about her, she had headed on to the vehicle bay, at first considering taking the one she was most familiar with, the personnel transporter they had used on Karafus, but then selecting another model. That one, smaller and lighter, could reach and maintain greater speeds, and since she would not have the need to transport such large quantities of personnel and supplies as they had for the research post on Karafus, that one definitely seemed the better option.

Though a little different to the larger vehicle, it had been easy to get used to. Taking it through the 'gate to Guedeseo without first knowing what she might encounter had been a calculated risk, but it had paid off. It wasn't as if she could check the lay of the land first, then return for it. So, she had scanned the terrain of the planet with the onboard equipment, located several settlements, though only one with life signs, hidden the truck and then headed for it to make herself comfortable until someone from Atlantis came looking for her. She'd only taken three gate trips in total to buy her enough time to worm her way into people's trust; she knew it wouldn't take them too long to work it out. Dr Heightmeyer had explained a little of the process gone through to track her last time in their sessions, supposedly to make her understand the futility of running, but she wasn't that stupid. And the information, though intended to discourage her, had actually spurred her on.

This hadn't been her first plan, though. Initially, she'd planned to grab supplies from Atrasca and head to Atlantis to take her chances there and remove Sheppard forcibly, but when Balfor had refused to give her the gate address and codes she needed to get there, she'd been forced to come up with another scheme. Now this was it, she was stuck here on Guedeseo for the rest of her life, so she had to make it worth her while.

Admittedly, Sheppard himself arriving on Guedeseo had initially thrown her and made her rethink her plans. She'd expected other Atlantis personnel to hunt her down eventually, and had planned to take them hostage to force Sheppard to join her there. His arrival with his team had been an absolute gift. Who better to take hostage than the people he worked most closely with? Unfortunately, getting to McKay was most likely to prove impossible as he was almost never alone since the arrival of that Carter woman, but that didn't really matter; she only needed two of Sheppard's team to make her point.

Jumping out of the vehicle, she headed for the rear and flung open the door. Ronon lay motionless, still unconscious and restrained, exactly where she had dropped him all those hours ago. She rolled him onto his back, spinning him round so his head was toward the door then dragging him out and dropping him to the ground in an undignified heap. His left arm and cheekbone bore grazes from her clumsy attempts to hoist him into the vehicle quickly before Sheppard and his two little helpers had roused; the man was a dead weight, and a considerable one at that. It had taken all her will power not to go back to Sheppard and take him too, but that wasn't how she wanted this to work. If he wanted his friends back, he had to show her how much they were worth to him. He had to come to her, do all the running, all the begging, then, if he was very lucky, she might consider releasing them. _If _he was very, very lucky.

A low groan issued from Ronon's lips, warning her that he would soon surface from the effects of the sedative. Finding the drugs in Keller's bag, along with Sheppard's clothing, had been an unexpected boon; she'd recognised the name from the times she'd been injected with it herself back on Medulsa, at times when the Lantean doctors had deemed her too troublesome to reason with. There was no time to lose, she had to get him inside and restrained before he woke enough to put up a struggle. This one was feisty, though in a more primitive way than Sheppard himself. He was easy to anger, and let everyone see exactly how he felt...and she still owed him for the discomfort and humiliation of having him sit on her while transporting her back to imprisonment on Atlantis the last time they'd met. He would definitely pay for that.

Using every ounce of strength she had, she heaved the huge man toward the door of the nearest building, dropping him long enough to turn the handle and shoulder the door back before dragging him in across the wooden floorboards. She hauled him over to one of the support pillars and secured him to it with several lengths of rope. She couldn't take a chance of him escaping before she'd taught Sheppard a lesson in obedience.

Catching hold of the Satedan's face, she lifted it to study his features. Without the scowl he permanently wore when looking at her, he appeared far younger than she'd thought...much younger than Sheppard himself. He was a boy in comparison, but carried himself in a way that suggested his life had not been easy, and he knew how to fight for survival. His hair was odd...perhaps tribal. She'd never seen hair like it before and lifted the dreads to examine them, finding something concealed along one of the shafts. A knife...

After that, she set about a thorough search of his hair, pulling out fifteen more of the tiny but potentially lethal blades. Only when she was completely satisfied that her efforts had located them all did she stop and turn her attention to the more refined form trussed to the support behind her.

She smiled, sauntering over to Teyla and squatting before her, releasing the gag from her mouth. 'And how are you, Teyla?

'Why are you doing this?' Teyla demanded, her eyes blazing. 'You already have me, why did you feel the need to take Ronon, too.'

'Because I need at least two of you hostage for this to work,' she explained, releasing the flask of water from her belt and tipping some to Teyla's dry lips.

The woman drank, though she did not look grateful. Sarayah didn't mind that; Teyla's spirit was a good quality in a woman, but something to be squashed in a man.

'What are you planning? Why will you not leave Colonel Sheppard be?'

'Well, as you yourself said, all actions have consequences. He is about to find out just how serious the consequences can be.'

'You heard that...you were watching us talk?'

'I have been watching you all very closely since the moment you set foot into that village. You are all so...weak minded. Except Sheppard...but that can be remedied.'

'Colonel Sheppard does not want any trouble with you, Sarayah. He just wants to...help you. You are sick...you do not know what you are doing.'

Furious to be patronised in that way she lashed out, slapping Teyla hard across the cheek. 'I am not sick. I do not need his pity or his help. I need him to understand what he has cost me, and I will not stop until I am sure he fully understands that and is sorry.'

Teyla's eyes drilled into her with impressive defiance, despite her sickening condition and current situation. Why a woman such as her would have let any man make her pregnant defied understanding. She was strong, wilful, and now she was little more than a glorified incubator. A thought suddenly crossed her mind, and her eyes wandered down to the Athosian's swollen abdomen. 'The child – is it John's?'

'No...Colonel Sheppard and I are colleagues and friends, nothing more,' Teyla replied, but there was fear in her eyes now, the fear of a mother desperate to protect her child.

'You aren't lying to me, are you, Teyla?' Sarayah pressed, pulling a knife from her belt and pressing it to her throat. 'I really don't like to be lied to.'

Teyla swallowed audibly but held her gaze as if she felt sure Sarayah would read the truth in her eyes. 'The child is not John's. I swear it.'

Sarayah stared into her eyes a while longer, then nodded her acceptance. 'I believe you. Lucky for the child it is not. I hope you are bearing a girl child. I should hate to think a strong woman like you would spawn another wearisome male.'

Though she didn't answer, the fact Teyla could no longer look her in the eye had to be a clue and she knew that. 'You carry a male! I am disappointed in you, Teyla, I really am...but I suppose you had no choice.'

Though clearly angered to have her child criticised, Teyla held her peace to protect him. Sarayah stood, rolling her aching shoulders strained by the heavy lifting and dragging. 'Now, we must get you some food or you will perish before I have my fun.'

She strode away, smirking at the look of horror now registering on Teyla's pretty face. Oh, Sheppard would rue the day he'd walked into her life and turn it upside down. She would make certain of that.

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger yesterday, but you didn't have to wait too long. Don't worry; the promised whump is coming soon! Thanks to everyone for the reviews. :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Okay...this is it...the week when Sarayah's plan finally comes to fruition and your patience is rewarded. Thanks to everyone for sticking with the story and leaving reviews. It's always good to hear what readers think. :D**

**Chapter 15 **

Teyla woke when the sound of determined strides broke through her sleep, lifting her head as Sarayah approached. Ronon, too, was now awake and straining at his bonds to no avail.

The Medulsan smirked at him as she rolled up the sleeves of the shirt she now wore – Sheppard's black military shirt. The woman had no shame, flaunting her trophies in front of them with little regard for what they thought of her, or how her behaviour made her look to them.

She loosened off Ronon's gag and poured a good measure of water into his mouth, which he promptly tried to spit in her face, but anticipating his action, most of it missed its target. That had been foolish. Teyla doubted Sarayah would be generous enough to give him more, and she was right. Sarayah put his gag back on, disregarding his growls and death glares as if he were nothing more than a child in the throes of a tantrum best ignored.

Now, she released Teyla's gag and tipped the flask to her lips. Unlike Ronon, she drank readily. She had to take whatever sustenance was offered, not just for her own sake, but for that of her unborn child. She once again wished she hadn't insisted she come along for the journey. She had become a liability, an easy target to be used against John in Sarayah's relentless attempts to subjugate him. What was that game Rodney and John played? Chess, that was it. She felt like one of the pieces on the board, one of the small insignificant ones sacrificed in order to capture the more important prize.

'We'll, today's the day,' Sarayah beamed, letting Teyla drink again. 'Today we lure in your friend and teach him what a mistake he made crossing me...twice.'

'He won't come,' Teyla told her, trying to keep her voice from shaking. 'He's not that foolish.'

'No...he's not foolish, but he is loyal, and he won't allow you to suffer on his account.'

Teyla knew time was running out for Sheppard and took the opportunity to try to reason with her captor. 'Sarayah, you must understand that nothing John has ever done has been personal to you. He wishes you no harm.'

'And yet here I am with nothing...Is it wrong that I take that kind of thing very personally?'

'You could have tried to adjust to your new way of life on Medulsa. Many people in the Pegasus Galaxy find themselves with little after a Wraith attack, but –'

Sarayah pulled a knife and jabbed it toward Teyla's face, silencing her in mid-sentence. 'What happened on Medulsa was no Wraith attack. It was one man making the decision that our way of life was wrong and single-handedly tearing down our society's rules.'

Determined not to show fear, Teyla tried once again to reason with her. 'But your society was treating its men cruelly without need. Colonel Sheppard simply found a way for all your people to live in harmony as equals without the constant threat of a Wraith attack. Surely you have no real issue with that?'

'What use is the Wraith weapon on a planet where I am not allowed to live as I choose?' Sarayah spat back at her. 'I feel no benefit from its protection.'

'But you could have...if you had been willing to adapt.'

'But why should I have needed to? My life suited me fine as it was. The Wraith had not been to our planet for centuries, and might not have come for centuries more had you not come to our world.'

Teyla shook her head. 'Wraith all over the galaxy have been awakening earlier than expected. They would have reached your planet in short time, of that I am certain. The darts that attacked just before we fixed your weapon were proof if needed.'

Teyla saw nothing in Sarayah's expression to suggest she was winning the battle. If anything, she looked even more determined to follow her course. 'As you say, the Wraith are awakening early? What do you think caused this unexpected rousing?'

Knowing giving a truthful answer would only make matters worse, Teyla tried to skirt the issue. 'We cannot know for certain.'

'Perhaps it is people like Sheppard making a stand against them that makes them rouse too soon? I know he has battled them – I have seen the scars myself.'

Frighteningly, Sarayah had come close to the truth without any help. Her mind was as sharp as the knife she held on her. 'He has, but I –'

'Don't try to convince me it's merely a coincidence.'

Teyla looked at the tip of Sarayah's knife, glinting in the sunlight and only inches from her throat. 'They may have inadvertently caused the Wraith to emerge from hibernation while seeking to help others. The Wraith undoubtedly sensed a new and plentiful source of food.'

Sarayah's hard eyes burned into hers as if reading her very thoughts, but Teyla gave no more information. She would not implicate John directly when his actions had saved her life.

'See! Even in this he is guilty of acting outside of the best interests of the majority.'

Regretting even trying to talk her round, Teyla decided her best defence of Colonel Sheppard would be silence from now on. Nothing she said would change this woman's mind. Kate had told her many things about Sarayah's condition, and she recalled the words now: egocentric and grandiose, lacking in any remorse, guilt or empathy, deceitful and manipulative with shallow emotions. In the short time Teyla had spent with this woman she had displayed all these things. There could be no doubt the diagnosis was sound, and as such, there was no getting through to her on any normal level.

Sarayah, though, had no intention of letting Teyla hold her tongue. 'I think it's time for John and I to have a little discussion – face-to-face.' She pulled Teyla's radio from her pocket and held it up for her to see. 'I'm sure there is some way I can connect this radio to John's and John's alone, isn't there?'

Teyla said nothing, setting her jaw and staring off into the distance, determined to play no further part in Sarayah's scheme. She had let John down enough by allowing herself to be captured; she would cause him no further hardship.

She could feel Sarayah scrutinizing her, studying her reaction, but refused to meet her gaze. 'There is obviously a way. If there wasn't, you would have answered freely,' Sarayah surmised. She lowered the knife now, and to her horror, Teyla felt the sharp point press into her stomach. 'Now, what can I do to make you part with that information, hmmm?'

It was no good. Sarayah knew what Teyla's weakness was now. Once a woman became a mother, that child always had to take priority above everything else.

Behind her, Ronon railed and growled into his gag, straining so hard several major arteries in his neck and arms looked about to burst.

Sighing, Teyla knew she was beaten. She had been foolish to believe she was a match for Sarayah in her current condition. Much as she had protested early on that she was still capable of taking on missions, this trip had been a mistake, one John had tried to dissuade her from, but she had felt certain was nothing more than simple reconnaissance and home in time for their evening meal. She should have trusted John's instincts; she understood that now.

'Yes, you can contact him directly,' Teyla said sadly, her eyes flicking to meet Ronon's. She saw no anger there – he had clearly understood her lack of choice and showed only relief when Sarayah pulled the knife away and gave Teyla some more space.

Sarayah smiled warmly, nodding her appreciation. 'I admire a person who knows when to admit defeat. I should have known you would have the sense to do that, Teyla, not like these pig-headed men you associate with. You must find them terribly frustrating. Now, let's have a little chat about how this radio works, shall we?'

Disturbed by the speed with which the woman could turn, Teyla gave her the information she needed, all the time praying to the Ancestors to forgive her betrayal.

oooOOOooo

_With rain hammering into his eyes and making it hard to see, Sheppard took each step with more than his customary caution, sure he wasn't alone, but unable to get a clear visual to ascertain that fact._

_With hours of rain now saturating the ground, he found his boots slipping on the slopes and ridges of the woodland ground. With every passing moment the surrounding trees seemed to grow more oppressive and encapsulating, branches clawing at his face and arms like bony, aged hands trying to grasp him and hinder his progress._

_He forged on despite the poor conditions and his personal discomfort, determined to find his missing friends. 'Teyla! Ronon! Can you hear me?'_

_Nothing. The silence was stifling, stealing his breath from his body as he carried on, tightening in his chest as his hopes of finding them faded. 'Teyla! Ronon! Let us know where you are!'_

_Us? What us? He hadn't seen the others in his search party for a while now, and was beginning to think they had abandoned the hunt. The rain increased in both force and volume to point where even the outstretched hands of the canopy above him did little to deter its effects. Sheppard tried to dry his eyes enough to see, but not before he felt a sudden change in the gradient of the ground and his boots slipped from beneath him, sending him sliding down a steep bank he had little hope of climbing again in the current conditions. _

_He came to a crashing halt at the bottom when his feet made contact with tree roots, sending his momentum tipping forward so he landed on his face in the filth and pooling water down there. He wearily dragged his tired limbs out of the sucking mud and staggered back to his feet, his body far too weak to deal with his surroundings, but his sheer bloody-mindedness forcing him upright._

_When he managed to wipe away the clay-like mud obscuring his vision he spotted something in the trees down there – something he didn't want to believe. There, hanging from the branches was a petite set of military issue boots, swinging slowly in the stiffening breeze._

'_No,' he gasped, trying to hurry to Teyla's inert body, hoping some final spark of life might still linger within her if he cut her down quickly enough._

_The cloying mud held onto his legs, slowing his progress while the scene in front of him seemed to stretch away, getting further and further beyond his reach. 'Teyla!'_

_Then, in the tree to her left, he heard a commotion – growling, snapping of wood, a shower of twigs, leaves and collected rainwater – as Ronon's huge bulk came crashing down, suspended by a noose around his neck, kicking and squirming, eyes bulging._

'_NO!' Sheppard tried in vain to run toward him, knowing there was still a chance for the Satedan if he could get to him now. But everything there conspired against him, the mud becoming thicker and deeper, the tree growing taller, and the distance between him and it extending further with each laborious stride._

_And then he saw her, grinning down at him from a branch on the opposite side of the trunk to the one Ronon swung from._

'_Cut them down!' he yelled. 'It's me you want, not them.'_

_She laughed, clearly revelling in his distress. 'I don't think so, John. I told you it was time to atone...and when all your friends are dead, and you and I are alone on this world, trapped with no means to leave it, then I will feel you have had punishment enough.'_

_He dragged his right leg out and drove it down again, sinking in almost as deep as his hip. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. When he tried to take his next step, he couldn't even move._

'_Don't do this...please!' he begged, prepared to do that when faced with such loss. 'Anything else...I'll do anything else, but don't...please...cut him down...cut them both down!'_

_Ronon's eyes fixed on him, slowly glazed, and with a final twitch he fell limp._

_Sheppard's strength left him completely, the mud no longer trapping but supporting him. 'No!' he breathed, his own arms dropping, lowering his weapon because he no longer cared enough to defend himself._

'_It's such a shame,' she called down to him, squatting down on the branch she occupied. 'They all leave you in the end, don't they, John? All your friends die and leave you grieving. You try to help them, but you always fail.'_

'_Teyla and Ronon didn't have to die; they didn't deserve it,' he yelled at her. 'I'm the one you want to hurt; leave the others alone and take me.'_

'_Too late,' she laughed. 'You had your chance on Karafus. You promised to leave with me, but all the time you were plotting to escape. Well, I won't fall for your lies this time. I won't stop until everyone you know here is dead and there's no one left to lie for.'_

_Suddenly, the rain stopped, the sun came out, and the mud dried instantaneously, tightening on his legs, the cracked surface holding him fast. Sarayah jumped down from her place on high and hit the ground without flinching, breaking straight into a smooth walking rhythm that brought her to stand over him on the surface of the mud he'd sunk into._

'_Time to pay for all the harm you've done, John. This is just the beginning...'_

Sheppard woke suddenly when a sharp shake of his shoulders roused him from his sleep.

Rodney's worried face peered down at him, and he flinched as if expecting to be struck.

'Wh...what is it? What's wrong?' he demanded, sitting up sharply and regretting it as the room swayed around him.

'Nothing...well nothing more than you already know about. It's just you were having another one of your nightmares.'

Sheppard looked over at the two empty bunks in their room were Ronon and Teyla should have been and shuddered involuntarily. His head ached, whether it was from his disturbed sleep or the constant attempts to fathom out what exactly Sarayah had in mind he wasn't sure. All he knew was he didn't feel much better now than he had when he'd laid his head down to get some rest.

'Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that, but she's got me a little worried right now.'

'Understandable,' Rodney muttered.

Sheppard sat up and adjusted his clothing, all borrowed from villagers, and this time far better fitting than Frah Mussa's balloon-like shirt. His own trousers, still damp after being washed out, hung on the back of a chair over near the window, so at least Sarayah hadn't snuck her way in and stolen those, too. He'd thought she was going for the whole uniform this time.

'Anyone else up yet?'

'Er, yeah. Think so. I've heard chatting.'

'We should see some breakfast and getting this day underway.' He pushed up off the bed, still a little achy from the pulse but much better this morning.

'Food. Now that sounds like a plan,' Rodney smiled, trying and failing to look excited by the prospect.

'We'll get them back, Rodney. I promise,' Sheppard told him, reading his mind and giving him the reassurance he clearly needed.

'I know we will,' he nodded frenetically. 'I just wish I could get the damned 'gate fixed so I could feel like I was doing something useful here.'

'You'll figure it out, Rodney. You and Sam are the two smartest people I know. If there's an answer to this, you'll find it.'

'If,' the scientist huffed, looking dejected.

Sheppard clapped a hand on his shoulder. 'Stay positive, Rodney. It'll be okay.'

He headed for the door through to the other rooms, but Rodney's next question stopped him before he reached it.

'Are you scared, Sheppard?'

He didn't turn. 'What?'

'I asked if you're scared, because I don't mind telling you, I'm pretty damn terrified right now.'

Although he'd been trying to deny his own emotions, trying to find an answer for his friend allowed his true feelings to flood through him. He _was_ scared. He was scared because he knew now that Sarayah understood him far better than he understood her. She had taken his friends because in their last encounter, she had learned how much he would endure to protect them. No matter what she'd done to him, he hadn't given her any way of getting to them. Now it seemed his loyalty had backfired big time.

'Yeah, I'm scared, Rodney,' he said, facing him at last. 'But fear keeps us alive. Trust it. Use it.'

'Trust it...use it,' Rodney repeated, nodding. 'Okay, I can do that.'

Breakfast turned out to be a sombre affair. During the night, another of the critically ill villagers had died, despite Jennifer's valiant efforts to save her, and Frah Mussa seemed to be deteriorating with each passing hour.

Having tested the water in the well and found it untainted, they felt safe to drink and cook with it. Sheppard's appetite had returned with a vengeance today, and he crammed in a good portion of the breads and various fruits on offer to help restore his flagging strength.

Jennifer joined them, looking completely drained.

'You look terrible. Did you get any sleep last night?' Rodney asked in his inimitable style.

Thankfully, Keller took it in good humour. 'Not much, no. But thanks for the compliment.'

'Oh, sorry...I only meant you looked tired,' he sputtered.

Sheppard smirked into his breakfast and didn't comment. Rodney was more than capable of digging his own hole on this one.

'Colonel, just to let you know, the villagers have offered to help search again today, those that can be spared and are feeling up to it, anyway,' Sam told him. 'Rodney and I are going to head up to the Ancient facility and see if we can power up any of their databases. If our theory is correct, there may be some information we can use there that will help us get the 'gate operational.'

'I recommend you take Major Lorne's team up there with you for protection again,' he replied, slugging back some water.

'I thought it would be better to deploy them to the search.'

Sheppard shook his head, pushing his food around as he answered her. 'Well, no disrespect intended, but I think it would be pretty dumb to take Rodney out there without adequate protection since Sarayah has already taken two members of my team. Besides, I seriously doubt we'll find Ronon or Teyla until Sarayah wants us to, so a few less people looking won't really make a difference. Of course, if I was out there, that would only be two less –'

'No, John. I want you and Jennifer to stay here and rest, and I'll leave Lieutenant Williams here with you for protection. If you manage that today, I'll reconsider things tomorrow...if we're still here. And don't go –'

'_Good morning, John. Be a good boy and don't tell anyone else I'm talking to you, will you?'_

The voice in his ear almost made him want to rip out his ear-piece and stamp on it. Instead, he froze, not knowing quite how to react.

'_Teyla was persuaded to tell me how to reach you on a one-to-one basis so we could have a private conversation,'_ Sarayah purred, setting his teeth on edge. He kept his gaze on Carter, but had no idea what she was saying anymore.

'_Can you give me a signal that you're receiving this message, John?'_

Reaching up as if to give his ear a scratch, he tapped his earpiece, knowing it would send a signal back to her radio.

'_Good boy.'_

He took another drink of water to moisten his suddenly dry throat. Carter looked a little pissed at him, so he focused on her again.

'Are you listening, John?'

'Yes, I'm listening,' he assured her. 'I'll stay behind.'

'Thank you. Come on people, let's finish up our meal and move out,' Sam urged, and Sheppard watched them eat, feeling as if he wasn't part of their world anymore. Now he felt like he was getting sucked into one of his weird nightmares, only this time he wasn't asleep.

'_You're doing very well, John. Now, I want you to listen to me. There's a road lying to the north of the village...well, more of a dirt track actually. It's well trodden so clear enough for you to see. Head out of the village on it and keep following it. I'll meet you along the way. Do you understand?'_

He surreptitiously tapped his earpiece again to let her know he had.

'_Very good, John. If you keep this up, this whole experience may be a lot easier for you. Just make sure no one knows where you're going if you want to see Ronon and Teyla alive again.' _

A chill rushed through him as she said that. He had the awful feeling that Ronon and Teyla's survival was going to depend on some serious grovelling on his part. Trouble was, grovelling wasn't really his thing, but he figured he'd better learn how to do it pretty quick or half of his team was toast.

As the others finished their meal he followed them back to their quarters where they geared up, all except for Jennifer, who collapsed onto a bed and promptly fell asleep, even with all the activity going on around her.

'Huh! Would you look at that. I guess that's what you call sleeping the sleep of the righteous,' Rodney quipped, clipping on his pack as he joined Carter.

'She worked hard through the night...she's earned it,' Sam said, giving the sleeping doctor a sympathetic smile. 'Okay people, let's move out.'

Sheppard walked to the door behind them, leaning against the doorframe to watch them go. Before she got more than a few paces, Sam had turned round and was headed back toward him. He frowned as she returned, puzzled by her sudden change in direction.

'Forget something?' he asked.

'Yes, I wanted to tell you not to do anything stupid while we're away.'

He stared back into her crystal clear blue eyes and felt as if she could see right through him, reading his mind. 'Nothing stupid. Understood,' he replied, giving her his crooked smile.

The look she gave him in return told him she feared he was going to do something reckless. In his place, he was pretty sure Sam would have done just the same for her team when she was back in the field.

With a dip of her head and a sad smile, she turned her back and strode out to catch up with the others. She didn't look back again.

Stepping back inside, Sheppard gave them enough time to get out of sight before returning to the door to talk to the young lieutenant posted there. He needed to get him out of the way if he was going to be able to meet up with Sarayah.

'Looking tired, Williams,' he began casually.

The young man smiled wryly. 'It was a long night, Sir.'

'You took some of the watch?'

'Yes, Sir.'

Sheppard nodded sympathetically. 'Didn't get much sleep then, huh?'

'I got some. I'm good.'

'Tell you what, Lieutenant. Why don't I take first watch and you take over later when you've rested?'

Williams didn't look too sure about his offer. 'But Colonel Carter said you and Dr Keller needed rest, Sir.'

'And what if they're gone all day...and all night? You can't stay on watch all that time.'

'No, Sir.'

'Look, I had a good night and I'm feeling refreshed right now, so why don't you get some shut-eye and let me do the work for a while? Sarayah's not even here so it's not like we're expecting trouble.'

'Is that an order, Sir?'

Sheppard smirked, realising the lieutenant didn't want to make the call himself. 'If it makes it easier on you, then...yes, it's an order.'

'Okay. Thank you, sir.'

Sheppard ducked back inside and collected what he needed, checking his flask of water, shoving some power bars into his pocket and picking up his P-90. Then he loitered outside the door a while in the hope Williams would succumb to his fatigue. After twenty minutes, he crept back inside and found the man sound asleep in his bunk. This was his best opportunity to get out of there and get his friends back. He had to go now.

As he walked past Jennifer's room she stirred, rolling over to face the door, but never opening her eyes. He held his breath, waiting until he was sure she wouldn't wake before continuing on his way.

As he got halfway across the square, someone called out his name and he heard footfalls hurrying behind him. Frah Lisso touched his shoulder and he felt compelled to turn and acknowledge the man.

'Colonel Sheppard, are you going out of the village? I was sure I heard Colonel Carter to you to get some rest.'

'Uh, yeah, she did. I just felt like going for a walk first...you know...to get some fresh air. I won't be long.'

'Are you going to check on your friends up at the Stargate?'

'Uh, no. I think they're at the Ancient research facility anyway...and to be honest, I doubt I could make it that far.'

'Then they have given up their work on the Stargate?'

Sheppard shook his head. 'No, but they think they may find some answers to the problem there.'

'I see. Well, perhaps I could accompany you?'

Sheppard looked down at the slight man, wishing he didn't have to reject his offer, but knowing it was essential. 'No offence, Frah Lisso, but I need some time to clear my thinking. Maybe next time. Oh, and a couple of my friends are sleeping in the house. Could someone keep an eye on them to make sure they're safe?'

'Of course, I'll arrange it myself...and you stay safe, too, Colonel' the Frah smiled, dipping his head and watching him leave.

Sheppard could feel his eyes on him the whole way across the square until he was out of sight. He really didn't want to do this, but he knew he had no choice. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Teyla and Ronon because he'd refused to play Sarayah's game. Maybe he could keep her sweet until Carter and McKay fixed the 'gate and gave them a way out of there. Once he got free of Sarayah's clutches, that was.

His stomach did a nauseous somersault at the thought of what he was walking into, but he forced his fear down. 'Trust it...use it,' he whispered to himself, as he left the village behind him. He didn't really believe the words, but they'd brought Rodney some comfort at least. He repeated them over in his head like a mantra, using the words to keep his pace steady. Thankfully, he felt stronger today; he had a feeling he was going to need all the strength he could muster for this particular reunion.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: My thanks as always to those of you still hanging in there with this story. Your patience and feedback are appreciated. :D**

**Chapter 16 **

Having collected the naquadah generator Major Lorne had sent through 'gate the previous day, Carter and McKay took it in turns to carry it down to the Ancient research facility. They had only just taken delivery of it when Sheppard's distress call from the village had come through, and there had been no time to deal with it other than to hide it in the woodlands nearby and hope no one found it. It was a good thing the machine was so well packaged, although that did add to its weight, or the storm could have done it some serious damage. As it was, it had still been where they'd left it and in perfect working order, and for that small mercy they were immensely grateful.

By the time they reached their destination, Carter's arms were aching as if she'd been bench-pressing for several hours, and she set the generator down quickly to shake them out and get the blood circulating to her fingertips again.

Rodney flew straight into a flurry of activity, prising off a panel and beginning to assess the best way to connect their power source to the Ancient systems.

While he did that, Sam brushed the gathered dust away from the surfaces of the control panels to get a clearer picture of what they were working with. They looked much like the systems on Atlantis, so no doubt once they had interfaced their laptops, they would be able to communicate with them with relative ease. The only thing that had her worried was that if the Ancients had put encryptions on the data files held back at Atlantis and possibly on the Stargate, it might also be impossible to access the data held here that required to power up the gate.

If they couldn't, they would have to wait six more days for the Daedalus to arrive, and with team members disappearing at the rate of one a day, and the villagers dying far quicker, the population could be decimated by them. They had to do something to bring this situation in hand.

'Rodney...did you ever talk to Sarayah when you were making your trips to Medulsa to study their weapon?'

McKay stopped working and looked up at her, a hint of sardonic surprise on his face. 'Oh yes. We had several pleasant conversations about the weather, as I recall...oh, no, actually it was more like what whip she thought did the best job of stripping a man's flesh from his bones. She's really surprisingly charming.'

Carter threw him a withering look. 'I'm serious, Rodney. I need to know everything I can about her to help me decide how to deal with this problem. We can't afford to make mistakes.'

Looking suitably contrite, he returned his attention to the crystals and circuits before him to save time as he answered. 'Our paths crossed once or twice, but conversation was pretty limited. She always wanted to talk about Sheppard, and I'd been told I wasn't allowed to, not that I would have anyway. That didn't leave us with much to discuss.'

'What is it exactly you think she wants from, John?'

'I would have thought that was obvious,' he huffed, removing a few crystals and rearranging them.

'I don't think it's as straight forward as that. I think her issues run deeper that some kind of...physical infatuation.'

He sat back on his heels, apparently unable to concentrate on the task. 'No, there is definitely more than that. She...well, she likes to control him...no, scratch that. She likes to _try_ to control him, but, well, you know, Sheppard being Sheppard...'

Carter nodded, 'That's the impression I get, so where does taking Ronon and Teyla fit into that? Is it meant just as some kind of punishment for defying her, or...?'

The realisation hit them both at once. Sarayah had worked out that Sheppard's friends were worth more to him that his own safety. She was going to use them to force his compliance.

Rodney activated his radio. 'Sheppard!' No reply. 'Sheppard! Stop ignoring me and answer!' His plea met with more silence. 'Oh, crap!'

Carter quickly decided hailing Lieutenant Williams back at the village was their best way to ascertain the colonel's whereabouts. 'Lieutenant Williams, this is Colonel Carter. Please respond.'

A very drowsy sounding voice replied, 'Yes, Colonel?'

'Are you sleeping, Lieutenant?' she demanded, trying to keep her mounting anger and panic in check.

'Yes, Ma'am. Colonel Sheppard ordered me to rest while he took first watch.'

Sam heard Rodney groaning and whimpering behind her, clearly freaking out.

'Could you check if he's still there for me?' she asked the young officer.

'Yes, Ma'am,' he answered again. Carter waited, holding her breath, praying it was just a radio glitch. 'Colonel Sheppard isn't here, Ma'am,' the lieutenant eventually reported. 'Apparently he went for a walk some time ago and left the Frahs on watch. He was last seen heading out toward the migration route.'

'Dammit, Sheppard!' she gasped. Then, she tried to hail him. 'Colonel Sheppard, this is Carter. We understand you've left the village of your own free will and can only guess that you are intending to look for Sarayah. I'm asking you to reconsider your plans and return to the village.'

Sheppard didn't answer. Either he was ignoring them or he'd turned his radio off.

'Oh, this is just great,' Rodney squeaked. 'She's picking us off one by one. Pretty soon there's gonna be no one left to rescue!'

Carter contacted the search team. 'Major Garcia, this is Carter. Can you please extend your search to include Colonel Sheppard; as of this moment he's also classed as missing. We believe he may be somewhere on the migration route.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' the major responded instantly, in stark contrast to Sheppard's radio silence.

'What the hell does he think he's doing?' Rodney blustered, his face practically puce with a mixture of rage and fear. 'And why didn't we realise what he was planning earlier? We're supposed to be two of the smartest people in the galaxy, and we couldn't work out why he suddenly agreed to stay behind!' He activated his radio again. 'Sheppard, you get yourself back to the village now or...so help me...I'll...I'll...'

Sam grabbed the near hysterical scientist by his shoulders and gripped them tightly. 'Rodney, I need you to stay focused. Sheppard obviously had his reasons –' She stopped, suddenly remembering the moment when she had insisted he stay behind for the day while they'd sat together at breakfast; the colour had literally drained from Sheppard's face in an instant, his movements suddenly stiff and awkward, and she'd known for a fact he wasn't listening. She recalled how his hand had risen to his ear as if to scratch it nervously...no, that had been a cover; he'd activated his earpiece. That could only mean one thing; Sarayah had contacted him, right there while he was sitting at the same table as her, and she'd talked him into staying behind where handing himself over would be much easier. Dammit! How could she have missed the signs?

'All right, McKay. Our people are on the problem, so you and I need to focus on this. Let's get that generator connected up and get things working here. That's the best thing we can do to help your team right now.'

The terrified scientist nodded, clicking his fingers while he listed the things he needed to do as if making noise blocked the full-blown panic attack he was clearly bordering on from actually making it all the way to his brain.

Sam opened up her laptop and fired up the programmes they would need to communicate with the Ancient tech, desperate now to save any time they could. Her role as Commander of Atlantis meant she should be furious about what Sheppard had done. She's specifically told him not to do anything stupid, and in most people's minds, handing himself over to Sarayah had to be about as foolish as an act could get. But, in her heart, she understood what he was doing. Sarayah had no doubt given him an ultimatum, to hand himself over to her or she would hurt, perhaps even kill, his friends. If faced with that scenario in her own days in the field, she would have handed herself over to the enemy to save her teammates in a heartbeat. In truth, she admired his strength of character, facing the woman after their two previous collisions where he had come off rather the worse for wear. That took some courage, especially knowing that her condition made her impossible to reason with.

'Okay, you got those crystals in place, Rodney?' she asked, keeping his mind on the job at hand.

'Working on it...we should be just about...there!'

Nothing happened.

'Oh, what? That should have worked. Why didn't it work?'

'It's okay, Rodney,' Sam soothed, hoping to bring him back down of the boil again. 'It's just a minor glitch. We'll figure this out.'

'Yeah, right. Just like we figured the gate thing out?' he whimpered, pulling out crystals and tampering with the circuitry again. 'And like we worked out what Sheppard was planning in time to stop him?'

Sam closed her eyes and begged whoever laws of physics were wreaking havoc with their lives to give them a break. It was the closest to praying she ever got, but she hoped it did them some good.

oooOOOooo

The dirt track had been as easy to spot as Sarayah had told him, and Sheppard had set off with great gusto to take her on, most of which had now abandoned him. His legs felt heavy and his heart burdened as he trudged a few more steps before finally admitting he couldn't go on without stopping.

Rodney's shrill cries via the radio had left an uncomfortable feeling of guilt nagging in Sheppard's gut, but the fact the calls had been short lived and no one else had tried to contact him told him Carter had ordered his friend to back off. He knew McKay would find it difficult to understand the rationale behind the decision he'd made because he was allergic to pain in any form, but even the scientist could put himself on the line sometimes if the situation called for it. He would realise it was the right course of action to take eventually, especially if it won Ronon and Teyla's freedom. _If _being the operative word there. There was, of course, every chance she would refuse to free them, but he had to take the chance because if they were still alive and unharmed, he would hopefully be close enough to have a chance of freeing them himself should the opportunity arise.

Already exhausted, he stopped to take a short break, sitting down on a substantial mound of rock at the side of the muddy dirt track to catch his breath and have a drink and a power bar before continuing. He'd been walking for less than an hour and the sun was making the heat unbearable. The Frahs had said it themselves, the migration season was approaching and he could well understand why they needed to move. Wiping the sweat from his hand onto his trousers, he couldn't help but ponder how useful that sweatband would have been right now, shuddering at the thought of how Sarayah had slipped in under his bed to get to it as three of them slept in that room. He guessed all that hunting in the dark had taught her how to be pretty quiet...that and the sneaking around in Medulsa stealing drugs she wasn't supposed to have to lure men into bed with her. That woman's nerve knew no bounds.

'_Are you still walking, John?' _a little voice buzzed in his ear.

He sighed, knowing he had no excuse not to respond to Sarayah, but reluctant to humour her with an answer. Couldn't she just leave him in peace for the short amount of freedom he had left? Dropping his head into his hands he gave himself a mental pep talk, firing himself up to answer her.

'_Talk to me, John.'_

Damn, he hated that woman. Rarely in his life had he truly loathed anyone, Senator Laurel excepted, but Sarayah awoke the deepest kind of revulsion in him...levels of abhorrence he hadn't even known he was capable of. He hated the sound of her voice, the fact she now insisted on using his forename as if they were friends, the way she got under his skin so easily, not to mention the way it didn't matter how hard he tried to stay away from her, some kind of unseen universal force seemed to draw them back together again...

'_John!' _

'I'm here,' he replied, hearing the anger in her pitch and suspecting he'd pushed her tolerance far enough.

'_What's wrong? Are you tired? I suppose this is hard for you considering how weak you are feeling right now. You've had quite a trying time since arriving here on Guedeseo.'_

There she went with the mind games again, trying to gain a psychological edge. Well, she could try, but he wasn't that feeble minded. 'Actually, I'm good, just trying to conserve my energy by not talking. So, are you on this road or not?' he asked, rubbing sweat soaked back of his hair.

'_I was already on it when I told you to come meet me. I'm sure our paths will converge soon enough.'_

He looked ahead up the track, but couldn't see any sign of her yet. The air above the ground rippled in the morning heat, distorting the view and making it hard to see clearly. Why the hell could he never get stuck with her somewhere cooler that didn't sap his strength the minute he started walking? Of course, the lingering effects of his tough few days really weren't helping either.

'Looking forward to it,' he told her, figuring he might as well use his bravado to try to score some mental points, too.

'_How sweet,'_ he heard her giggle. Was she honestly giggling? Did psychos really giggle like schoolgirls? He'd imagined they were more prone to maniacal laughter, but supposed that was just because he'd bought into the Hollywood myth version of the condition, not the reality. The sound made the hairs on the back of his neck bristle.

'Yeah...sweet...that sounds like me,' he muttered, getting back to his feet and continuing his trek.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke again. _'You've gone quiet, John.'_

He clenched his teeth and bit back the obscenities he longed to scream at her. He was trying to keep her on side – that was his whole aim, so he had to sound amiable. 'Like I said, just conserving my energy,' he told her. 'So, Teyla and Ronon – you've been looking after them for me, right?'

'_Of course. Though I have to say your Satedan friend wasn't exactly in the best of moods when I left him earlier.'_

'No, he tends to get like that with people who kidnap him. I guess some might consider it a flaw.' He thought about how angry Ronon would be about allowing himself to be captured. Oh, yeah. He'd be fuming right now. The Satedan didn't like it when people outdid him at anything he excelled at, but Sarayah had been living on her wits, controlling a variety of men and deceiving people most of her life, so it was no surprise she was a formidable adversary.

She giggled again, sending another shudder down his spine. _'You're in good spirits, though, John. I confess I'm rather looking forward to this meeting.'_

Sheppard shook his head and kept walking, suppressing the insults he wanted to yell inside his head where they couldn't do any harm. Five minutes passed, and she struck up again.

'_You're quiet again, John. You must be getting tired walking in this heat.'_

For someone who only last night had said the time for talking was over, she was suddenly very loquacious. He stopped, squinting into the distance and imagining he could see a dot on the horizon. The mud on the road was already drying in the heat, and yes, he was tired, but he wouldn't tell her that. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve, he sighed and answered her again. 'I told you, I'm good.'

That dot on the horizon was now growing rapidly. He'd imagined he could see her approaching so many times before he hadn't believed it was really her, but now he knew something was heading his way. It had to be her...surely nothing in the natural world could maintain that speed. At that rate, she would be with him in a matter of minutes. Time to get ready.

'_I'm glad to hear that...but make the most of it, John, because I am going to teach you and your people a lesson – one you are never going to forget...and one I will ensure you learn even if I have to hammer it repeatedly into that thick skull of yours,_' she hissed, her voice now oozing with the menace he knew only too well.

That wasn't exactly what he needed to hear out there in the middle of nowhere. Sheppard stumbled to a halt, the sound of the vehicle engine carrying to him on the air. There was no way he was going to be able to reason with her, he knew that. He supposed that made what he'd done stupid, just the kind of thing Carter had warned him not to do, but what choice had he had? She'd taken his friends hostage and told him their lives were forfeit if he didn't hand himself over. What the hell should he have done? For a second or two he'd contemplated telling the others what she wanted from him and getting them to set up an ambush, but she was so slippery there was every chance she would get away. If she had, that would have been the end of Teyla and Ronon for sure. So coming alone had been his only option, even if the mood she was in meant she would probably flay him alive and kill Teyla and Ronon just for the sheer hell of it. But he was armed this time, and that gave him one chance, one he meant to exploit. He had to stop her before she could capture him, and then he would worry about finding his friends.

Locking and loading his weapon, he tracked the truck coming closer along the filthy road, spraying what remained of the mud as it drove at speed toward him. Thinking fast, he decided his best plan was to take out the tyres and disable the vehicle; that way at least she would struggle as much as he would to get back to wherever she was holding his team members. Of course, that would mean he could be stuck in the middle of nowhere with the crazy she-devil, but at least he had a gun. Like she'd said, the time for talking had passed. Now, he needed to take action.

The vehicle hurtled toward him, but he stood his ground, lifted his gun and took aim. He was one of the best shots on Atlantis, and now, more than ever, he needed to prove that.

As she closed in, the wheels came into his sights. Steadying his trembling body, wracked by his own raging heartbeat, he focused on the target, took aim, and fired a single round straight into the offside tyre.

Nothing happened.

The tyre stayed inflated and the vehicle kept coming.

Figuring he must have missed, he took aim again, this time letting off two rounds that both definitely found their target. But they were ineffectual. The truck kept coming.

'Oh, crap!' he breathed. He hadn't anticipated that. The vehicle either had solid tyres or they were self-repairing like the slime-filled tyres he had on his mountain bike back home. So instead he set his weapon to rapid fire and shot at the windshield. His bullets simply ricocheted off, and over the clamour of the weapon's fire and the approaching engine, he thought he could hear her laughing. The damn thing was bulletproof; nothing was getting through.

He fired again, this time at the hood, hoping the decreasing distance between them would put enough power behind the shots to penetrate some weak point of the shell and take out a vital engine component, but no such luck.

At the last moment, she swerved and he tried to fling himself aside, but he wasn't fast enough. The braking, sliding truck clipped his hip and sent him flying. He hit the ground several feet away and rolled over several times from the momentum of the contact.

Eventually, he stopped rolling and lay still, face down on the ground, dazed and winded and in incredible pain. That had definitely been a stupid move. He could see Carter's reproachful look in his mind's eye already. Somewhere off behind him he could still hear the engine running. What was she doing? Was she planning to come back and finish him off? He had to get back on his feet...somehow.

After a few moments of refusal, he willed his brain into action, ordering it to help him lift his head to see what was going on. He did so just in time to see Sarayah running his way, and with no hope of having time to even roll over and level his weapon, he did the only thing he could, balling up and shielding his head as she swung her boot hard into him, once in the forearm, then twice into the ribs, the second kick levering him onto his back before she slammed her foot down on his sternum to pin him as she grabbed his gun and freed it from his tac-vest.

Gasping for breath, he lay perfectly still as she aimed his weapon at him, her eyes hard and her mouth fixed in an angry line. After what was probably no more than a few seconds that seemed to stretch out for hours, she finally spoke.

'So, John. Are you ready to come willingly now, or am I going to have to get really tough with you?'

Staring down the barrel of his own gun and knowing his friends were still in danger, he figured he had little choice but to go along for the ride.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for staying with me on this story. I hope you continue to enjoy it. :D**

* * *

**Chapter 17 **

Blindfolds were a bitch when your hands were pinned behind your back. They itched and they rubbed and there wasn't a damn thing you could do to ease the sensation. This wasn't the first time Sheppard had been blindfolded – probably wouldn't be the last – but on this occasion it was bugging him far more than it ever had. Of course, that was probably to do with the fact the woman sitting beside him made him angsty as hell when he could see her, let alone when he couldn't.

Worse still was the gag she'd forced on him, depressing his tongue and absorbing every last drop of moisture from his dirt-laced mouth. She'd pulled it good and tight so it chaffed the skin at the corners of his lips and made making noise impossible without a demonstration of just how a gag had earning its name. He'd found that out when she'd dragged him up from the floor after applying it, tugging on his fractured arm and causing the Atrascan restraints she'd slapped on him to gouge into his skin. He'd ground out a complaint into the cloth filling his mouth, which as a result had set him off on a session of dry heaving he'd had real trouble getting under control.

He had no idea of the passage of time, but it felt like hours and Sarayah hadn't uttered a single word the whole time. That didn't mean he couldn't feel the anger oozing out of her regardless of her silence. The colonel sat motionless beside her, uncomfortable as his position was, since he had no wish to aggravate her any further than he already had. If he grovelled enough when she took off his gag, explained he'd thought she was going to run him down, he could maybe win her round over the whole firing on her fiasco.

Thankfully, the searing pain in his hip had subsided through the journey, and was now more of a dull ache. That suggested it was only bruised rather than anything more serious. It had hurt like crazy to walk to the truck and climb in, but he'd managed it with her somewhat heavy-handed assistance, and for a while he'd seriously thought it was broken. It was a relief to know it wasn't...at least it didn't seem to be. The way she'd swung the vehicle round and hit him with the tail end meant she'd intended to floor him rather than crush him under the wheels, so she clearly hadn't meant to do him any real damage...yet. She was frighteningly adept at using whatever equipment she had at her disposal to its full potential. He really had to stop underestimating her, although the way she was driving now suggested the glancing nature of the blow might have been more down to luck on her part and timing on his as she crunched the gears and jolted along. It was a good job she wasn't on a freeway, that was for sure. Anyone else on the road would be in serious trouble. But she knew enough about driving the truck to keep it moving, no doubt courtesy of her time with the Atrascans, and that was all she really needed to know.

Occasionally, she shifted beside him, reaching for something he suspected might be her water flask sitting next to him on the seat. What he wouldn't give for a mouthful of that himself. Once or twice her hand brushed his thigh, and though he knew it was possibly incidental contact, he twitched his leg away to make sure she had no reason to touch him again. Incidental it might be, but there was a chance she was doing it just to piss him off, and it was working.

Eventually, the pitch of the engine changed and he felt their momentum slow. Was this just a stop-off or had they reached their destination? He was tired of being trussed up and bounced around, but in a way he didn't want the journey to end just yet. If they were finished driving, that meant it was time to get out and face up to whatever she had in mind for him and his friends. He didn't know if he was ready for that – doubted he ever would be.

The vehicle squeaked to a halt, and jerked as she engaged the braking system. The engine stopped and he heard her jump out onto what now sounded like dry dirt crunching under her boots. Either the sun had dried up the land, or they had travelled quite a distance to an area unaffected by yesterday's storms. He'd had the sense that they had attained and maintained a considerable speed through the journey, but without his sight it had been hard to tell for sure. They could have quite feasibly covered hundreds of miles...which meant he was now well out of reach of help. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He'd done the right thing. Being here would buy Teyla and Ronon time while Sam and Rodney figured out the 'gate problem and found a way to track them down. This would hopefully stall her and stop her from hurting anyone else.

He realised he couldn't hear her anymore. She'd walked away and left him sitting there alone. Not that he could use it to his advantage. He was as helpless as a baby tied up the way he was.

Suddenly, the footfalls returned and the door beside him was yanked open. Hands grabbed his shirt and pulled him out onto the ground with little thought for how hard he would hit it, the restraints cutting his skin and jerking his injured arm to awaken the pain again. All that along with falling on his painful hip. He forced down the urge to cry out, knowing it would only make matters worse considering the gag was still in place, and let her pull him back to his feet and guide him up a couple of steps to what sounded like a wooden floor. The echoes of their footsteps became more hollow, suggesting he was now inside a building...a fairly empty building at that, and possibly a quite sizable one.

Sarayah pushed and tugged him about until she'd steered him to just where she wanted him, then kicked him in the backs of his knees to send him down to the floor. His kneecaps thudded against the solid boards, jarring both them and his bruised hip, but again he held back his natural response and bit down hard on the gag instead until the discomfort subsided.

He listened as she circled him, slow deliberate steps, grateful for the moment that he couldn't see her expression, and that his was mostly masked. She certainly knew how to get to him, but he was determined not to show her she had.

After a few more seconds of the unnerving march, she stopped behind him and started meddling with the knot on his gag, releasing it and letting it fall away, much to his relief.

Then she began her calculated walk again, slowly, purposefully trying to wear him down.

Although inside his head he was yelling at her to get it over with, Sheppard didn't react. He knelt before her, thirsty and battered and let her enjoy her moment of power. He had no intention of pushing her further until he knew where Ronon and Teyla were. He couldn't risk anything more proactive again until he was sure of their safety.

The wait was excruciating, giving him time to ponder on all the things she might have in mind for him. Would she hit him, kick him, stab him or maybe just leave him here alone without the hope of rescue? That would be the worst thing she could do...a slow, lonely and lingering death.

But apparently Sarayah wasn't considering any of those things. Her hot hands grabbed hold of his face and before he could jerk free her mouth was on his, pressing down hard, her tongue probing deeply as she forced it past his parched lips. He rolled with it, let her do what she had to while mentally detaching himself until it was over and she broke contact with a shove that set him back on his heels.

After taking a moment to regain his breath, he quipped, 'I guess that means you're pleased to see me.'

Even though he couldn't see her, he pictured her smirk in his mind's eye as she answered. 'You have no idea how much, John. No idea.'

'Well, now I'm here you'll let Teyla and Ronon go, right?'

A throaty grunt from behind him let him know they weren't alone. He couldn't be sure, but it had sounded like Ronon...either that or one hell of a pissed of animal was chained up back there and that really didn't bear thinking about.

A sharp crack and a sting to his left cheek told him what she thought of his request. 'That's not for you to dictate,' she told him.

'I thought we had a deal.'

She struck him again, this time harder, leaving the warm taste of blood in his mouth. 'So did I...then you shot at me.'

'I thought you were trying to run me down!'

'I seriously doubt that...besides, I never said anything about releasing them. I said you needed to come to me if you wanted to see them alive again, that's all.'

'The terms were implied –'

This time she punched him, momentarily stunning him. 'Are you beginning to see a pattern here, John?'

He didn't answer, not sure whether that was a reciprocal question or not.

'Are you, John?' she repeated leaning in close enough for him to feel her breath on his face and grabbing hold of his jaw.

'Yes,' he said, flat and calm, ignoring her bruising grasp and her proximity. Eventually, she let go again.

'The thing is...I can't release your friends yet because they're part of your lesson. You see, you have ideas above your station, John. You're only a man – a clever man, a complex man, an attractive man, yes – but you strut around this galaxy judging others and imposing your ideals and sensibilities on them as if you are infallible –'

'I don't think tha –'

The blow to his stomach was distinctly boot-sized and knocked the wind clean out of him in one go. Ronon, or what he assumed to be Ronon, growled behind him, and something decidedly wooden creaked as if under strain.

'I haven't finished speaking yet, John, but you can guarantee before I _am _finished with you, you're going to understand the importance of listening to me and doing what I say.'

She fell silent and unmoving. He knew she was in front of him and that this was just a test to see if he could hold his tongue through the awkward and nerve-fraying silence. Well, he could. He needed to keep his wits about him and his body as strong as possible for when an opportunity to tackle her arose, so anything he could do to stop her from hitting him had to be a good idea.

Eventually she broke the stalemate with a gentle stroke to his abused cheek. He didn't pull away, figuring it was yet another test of his obedience.

'Very good, John,' she praised, as if he was a loyal pet. 'I always knew you were intelligent.'

She continued to caress his face, and, conscious that at least Ronon and possibly Teyla were witnessing this, Sheppard fought hard to control his embarrassment and the urge to snatch his head away from her touch. He hated them seeing him submissive, even if it was the smart thing to do. To his relief, she stopped what she was doing and slid her hand around to the back of his head, deftly untangling the knot in his blindfold one-handed and pulling the cloth away. When his vision adjusted to the light, he found himself looking down the worrying end of a military issue sidearm.

Blinking away the blurriness, he lifted his eyes to hers and held steady, waiting for her to tell him what to do.

'Well, there they are, John. Alive as promised,' she said, twitching her gun to signal he should look behind him.

He did, seeing the rage in Ronon's eyes as the Satedan pulled against the ropes securing him. But he had no hope of breaking free – his bindings were far too strong. Teyla, in complete contrast, sat quietly, her eyes brimming with concern. He sensed that concern was not for herself, either. Did they know what Sarayah had in mind?

'On your feet,' she ordered him, grabbing his arm and dragging him up.

She led him over to his friends, then, to his surprise, took off his restraints. The relief was instant, and he rubbed at the bloody skin of his right wrist. The temporary splint on his left hand had spared him the lacerations on at least one arm. He eyed her dubiously as she reached into her top pocket and pulled out a syringe, sliding it across the floor to him.

'Let's see how obedient you're feeling, shall we?' she smiled, her eyes hardening. 'Being in charge means you have to make difficult decisions sometimes, doesn't it, John?

He looked down at the syringe in his hand, wondering where this line of thinking was going. Who did she want him to sedate and why?

'I wonder if you've ever had to make a choice quite as difficult as this one, though?' she mused, levelling her gun at Teyla's head. The Athosian's eyes widened, but she remained still and silent. Only her laboured breathing betrayed her mounting fear.

'Whoa, easy,' Sheppard said, desperate to tackle it away from her, but fighting the instinct because he knew her reactions were too fast. 'Just...just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it.'

'I want you to make a choice. That syringe you're holding is full of lantha berry juice. I want you to choose which one of your team to kill with it.'

It took a moment for the reality of those words to register. Surely she hadn't just asked him to kill one of his friends? Unfortunately, the cruel gleam in her eyes told him that was exactly what she intended him to do. 'I...I can't,' he breathed, looking down at the syringe again. 'You can't ask me to do that.'

'Upset those sensibilities of yours, does it?'

He locked eyes with her. 'I will do anything you want – _anything_ –but don't ask me to do this,' he promised, and right at that moment he meant it.

'You see, this is exactly what you always do,' she hissed, pressing the barrel of the gun to Teyla's temple. Teyla closed her eyes, readying herself, or perhaps even meditating to keep her composure. 'You walk into a situation where the rules are set, and you try to bend them to your will.'

'But...this...this is wrong. They've done nothing to hurt you.'

'They've allied themselves with you against me, just as the villagers did. That is enough. Now make your choice.'

Sheppard didn't move...couldn't move in fact. His eyes dropped to the syringe again, then lifted to Ronon's. The Satedan held his gaze confidently, no longer struggling. Sheppard knew what that meant, and with a slight nod far too reminiscent of the one Colonel Sumner had sent his way all those years ago, Ronon gave him permission to take his life.

'I...I can't,' Sheppard said again.

'Then perhaps you should give Teyla the poison. Would that be easier for you?' she asked moving her aim to Ronon.

His friend kept his eyes on his, urging him to do it. Sheppard knew Ronon would give his life willingly to save Teyla, as would he, but...he couldn't kill him himself.

'No...I...'

'Let me clarify things for you,' Sarayah announced, her voice rising a few decibels as if she thought him hard of hearing or an idiot. 'You don't have the option to refuse. You choose one, or I kill them both. As a leader and a military man, surely you see killing one is strategically the better option than losing them both.'

'You said if I came to meet you they'd live,' he protested, his voice now quaking with the pressure put upon him.

'No, John, you're twisting my words. I said you had to come to me if you wanted to see them alive again, and here they are – alive as promised. I'm afraid your optimism was misplaced. I never said they would both stay that way.'

Sheppard thought about making a lunge for her with the syringe to finish her once and for all, but something in his expression must have betrayed his thoughts as she issued a sudden warning.

'And if you're thinking about killing me instead, remember I have the gun. I can stop you before you reach me and then I'll kill them both anyway.'

Every nerve in Sheppard's body buzzed with agitation, fuelled by the awareness of just how alive the two people before him were. How could he make a choice like that? He knew Ronon was the right option to go for, because Teyla would soon be a mother and needed to survive so her child could be born, but Ronon was more like a brother to him than his own flesh and blood. He wanted them both in his life. He couldn't even contemplate taking one of them out of existence.

The colonel involuntarily shook his head at the thought, a motion that set Sarayah railing again. 'Try to understand, John. Your refusal means death for both of them. Is that what you want?'

'NO!' he yelled back at her. Then more quietly, he said it again. 'No...'

'I have an idea,' Sarayah suggested, tugging Teyla's gag away from her mouth. 'Why don't we let your friends tell you what they think? Take off his gag.'

Sheppard hesitated, but when the gun was pressed once again back to Teyla's head it spurred him into action. Unknotting the cloth filling his friend's mouth, he let it drop away, and Ronon immediately gave him his support. 'I'm the only choice, Sheppard. You know that. Do it.'

Swallowing hard, he looked down at the syringe. He'd known Ronon would say that, and he was right. Killing Teyla took two lives, Ronon...only one. Lifting a shaky hand, he stepped toward his friend until Teyla's voice stopped him short.

'Do not do this, John. You will never be able to live with yourself if you take a friend's life with your own hand.'

'I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have trouble living with this whatever happens,' he replied, rather more curtly than he'd intended.

He shouldn't have snapped because Teyla was right, too. He wasn't exactly good at letting go of his burdens, even when he wasn't directly to blame for things going wrong. How could they both be right, and how could he choose if they both were? His hand dropped to his side.

'So, you choose not to act and condemn them both to death?' Sarayah pressed the gun harder against Teyla's temple, making her wince.

'No! Wait!' A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead, his breath catching in his throat. Trembling, he took another step toward Ronon, his palms slick and his legs shaking beneath him.

'It's okay, Sheppard. Don't think about it, just do it,' his friend urged him, but it didn't make things any easier. He nodded, chewing his lip and squatting beside him.

'John –'

'Stay out of this, Teyla,' Ronon growled. 'Don't make this harder than it already is.'

'She couldn't if she tried,' Sheppard assured him, looking down at the syringe and feeling the death it held. Memories of the pain and confusion of his own poisoning overwhelmed his mind. Why the poison? Why did it have to be a horrible death? Perhaps she thought death was just death and it didn't matter, but it did to him. If he injected this stuff into his friend he might suffer for hours, but a bullet, well placed and decisive, would mean it was over and done with in an instant. Of course, there was no way Sarayah would let him have a gun to do it.

'Time's up, John. They both die –'

'NO! I'LL DO IT!'

Tears stung his eyes, but he didn't care. This warranted tears and he couldn't hold them back if he wanted to. His actions on Medulsa, though well intended, had brought them all to this, and now all he could do was rue the day. Ronon hadn't even been part of his team then, but now he was about to join the ranks of his friends who he could only mourn.

'I'm sorry, buddy,' he whispered, lifting the syringe to Ronon's arm. He felt his friend tense, ready for the needle's point to breach his skin, hearing nothing but the blood rushing in his ears as his heart raged in his body, fit to burst. Ronon's pulse pounded beneath Sheppard's fingers as he gripped his wrist to hold his arm steady, betraying his true fear masked so professionally beneath his strong if angry exterior.

Sheppard put the syringe to Ronon's skin, took one final deep breath –

'Of course...there is a third option.'

Sheppard snatched his hand away and let go of him, throwing his head back and gasping out the breath he'd been holding. Sarayah strolled toward him, holding another syringe up for him to see.

'Your third option is to give yourself this sedative and willingly put yourself in my hands to make recompense for what you have to do me. That way, I leave your friends alive, just like you wanted me to.'

So, this had all been a trick – a test to see if he could play by the rules if required. He hadn't thought he could hate her anymore than he already did, but she'd managed to push his loathing to completely new levels. She knew what he would do – that he would take the sedative in a heartbeat to save his friends – but she'd been determined to make him work for it first, to bring him low in front of his teammates and friends. He didn't doubt that Ronon understood why he had made the choice he had, but Teyla might never forgive him for putting another's life above hers.

'What do you choose, John?' she smirked, holding the syringe out to him, her gun trained on him the whole time. 'Are you willing to come with me and let me teach you some humility?'

He doubted she knew the meaning of the word, but she sure as hell understood manipulation inside out. Though his mind was screaming that he should get the hell out of there, he nodded.

'Throw that syringe you're holding down.'

He did as she told him, glad to be rid of it, and she stamped it into the dirty floorboards, rendering it useless. Then she passed him the new syringe.

Staring at the innocuous looking item, he couldn't help but be struck by what it represented. This was submission...this was giving up any and all control over his life. But it would save his friends, and that thought would get him through this.

'Sheppard...you don't have to do this for us,' Ronon told him.

No, he didn't have to, but he would. They were his family now. He couldn't be responsible for their deaths; that would be too much weight to bear.

So, he pushed his sleeve up, pulled the syringe cap off with his teeth, and stuck it in his arm before he could change his mind.

A cold rush in his vein and he'd rendered himself submissive.

It took only seconds to have an effect; the room began to sway and tilt and he could no longer maintain his balance, slumping to his side. Ronon's blurring face filled with rage, and he yelled at Sarayah, but it was too distorted for Sheppard to make the exact words out. Somewhere in there was Teyla's voice too, softer, more reasoning, but it was slipping away from him, as if he were rushing away in an F305, leaving them all behind.

Someone pushed him over onto his back – Sarayah he supposed – and his consciousness began to slide, his vision tunnelling and his senses closing down, but not before he heard a crack and a terrible roar of pain...


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: So here are the answers to the questions left at the end of yesterday's instalment...and more creepiness of course. Thanks for all the reviews. :D**

**Chapter 18 **

The world crept in on him gradually, first sound, then smells, then the impression of light penetrating his closed eyelids. A weird birdcall, perhaps belonging to something like a hawk, screeched out, and somewhere close by he heard the sound of furniture moving across a wooden floor, that awful scraping sound setting his teeth on edge.

Sheppard was used to waking up in odd places – it was a hazard of the job, especially when working in the Pegasus Galaxy – but for some reason he couldn't quite remember this time felt much worse than usual. There was a distinct mustiness to the air enveloping him. It caked his tongue with a thick taste of dust and dampness and left a cold sensation at the back of his throat as he breathed it in. It felt wrong, alien, and made him want to hold his breath to keep it at bay, but the smell didn't go away even then. It seemed to cling to everything, maybe even to him.

Feeling sick, disoriented and dizzy before he even opened his eyes, Sheppard lay still and decided moving wasn't worth the effort just yet, no matter where he was. It was quiet there, almost peaceful other than the sense of unease churning in his gut, and while he felt this unwell he intended to enjoy the relative tranquillity. But the sensation of malaise he woke with was nothing compared to how bad Sheppard felt when he began to recall snatches of what had happened prior to this awakening. Those recollections were as effective as the shock of a bucket of cold water and had him fully conscious in an instant.

His eyes snapped open, and he tried to sit up, his arms jolting at the shoulders and sending him back down to the mattress he now lay on. He felt the grip of the ropes before actually seeing them, one wrapped securely around each wrist and tethered to the posts of the double sized bed he lay upon, the rough sheets beneath him holding that same mildewed smell he'd awoken to interwoven in the threads of the fabric.

Outside the room he heard what sounded like dishes being set out somewhere, and someone humming a light tune he didn't recognise. He could, however, identify the voice. Crap! This was not good. This was _so_ not good...

The light he'd seen through closed lids was from an oil lamp burning beside the bed in a cold and unfamiliar room with no one else around. The shutters at the window hadn't been closed yet and showed a sky already darker than dusk. It would soon be nightfall; somewhere along the line he'd apparently lost several hours...several hours lying unconscious, helpless and unaware of what was going on around him. Except now he thought he remembered the sound of an engine, more of that humming, hands tugging at him...

Where the hell was he? And where were Ronon and Teyla? There were no clues to be found in the room, that much was certain. The place was almost bare other than the bed he lay on, a nightstand and lamp, a sturdy wooden chest and a chair in the far corner on his right. Other than that, a door sat slightly ajar a few feet from the end of the bedstead, just enough to let in noise...and probably for someone to hear him if he moved enough.

He pulled against the ropes on his right wrist, hoping to feel some give he could use to his advantage, but it was tight and didn't slacken despite repeated attempts to wriggle his hand free. This really wasn't how he'd wanted to wake up..._hands tugging at him, pulling at his tac-vest and the shirt the villagers had loaned him, someone telling him not to fight as he tried to keep his leaden eyelids open_...and then he realised his clothes were gone, and only a thin but coarse blanket covered his body despite the bitterly cold temperature. _That's it, John. You just sleep now. I'll make you comfortable._

Bile welled in his throat as his imagination went into overdrive, wondering exactly how much time and effort she's put into "making him comfortable". Then he mentally slapped himself upside the head. It was done...it was over, and at least he couldn't remember it clearly – yet. Right now, he had to focus on his situation and figure a way out of it. He tried again in vain to pull his right hand free, not daring to try the same with his aching left arm despite the fact the cast meant the ropes didn't burn his skin. That one had taken more than enough punishment already today.

Dropping his head back to the pillow, he wrestled with the memories that now chose to bombard him, replaying the moments spent in that deserted warehouse with his captive friends. He'd almost killed Ronon – he'd been ready to do it – why hadn't he called her bluff on it? Then he corrected himself. There had been no bluff. If he hadn't shown willing to see the act through, she would have happily killed both Teyla and Ronon there and then. He'd had no choice...again. Just as he'd had no choice but to let her take him there...or to give himself over to her in exchange for his friends' survival. But this was really not how he'd wanted to wake up. This left him completely vulnerable, which was no doubt her plan. He tugged hard again, making the damaged skin under the ropes bleed from the friction.

More memories now rushed in. Teyla's sad plea for him not to kill their friend despite knowing it meant sacrificing herself...willing to do that to save him more torment. Sarayah's angry voice telling him to make his choice. The sensation of that cold, insidious drug creeping into his body and shutting him down. _Your friends are all gone now, John...it's just you and me._ Then, the sound of a gunshot rebounded around inside his skull, along with a scream of pain...Ronon's scream. _No!_

'Sarayah! SARAYAH!'

After a few seconds, the door he could see beyond the foot of the bed creaked open and Sarayah casually leaned against the frame. 'Oh, I see you're awake at last. I was wondering –'

'You lying bitch! You shot him. You said you would leave them alive, but you shot him!'

Unfazed by his anger, she sauntered over to the bed and sat beside him, placing her hand on his thigh. He squirmed, but she just tightened her grip enough to hold him there. 'Don't get yourself so upset, John. I didn't lie; he was alive when I left...may still be for all I know.'

With his utter contempt of her now seething and waiting to be born, he demanded, 'Is that how you justify your killings now? Leave them while they're still alive, then you're not responsible? Is that what you thought when you poisoned the villagers? Is that what happened with Balfor? Was he alive when you left him, too?'

She broke into a grin as she recalled the old man. 'Oh, Balfor was most definitely dead when I left him behind, John. I tortured him then snapped his neck like a brittle old twig because he refused to give me Atlantis' address.'

'Well I wish he had, because we would have shot you on sight.'

'If I'd given you the chance...'

'You are so full of it!'

'Why not give me the address yourself and see what happens?'

He realised he was allowing himself to become sidetracked, pulled in by her game. He wasn't interested in scoring psychological points off her, he just needed to know his friends were okay. 'I want to check on Ronon,' he insisted.

'I'm afraid you can't. They're miles away from here now. We were on the road for quite a while as you slept.'

'What? You shot him and left him behind?'

'Not my concern,' she shrugged with true indifference. 'Besides, it was only a flesh wound and I left a dressing from your supplies. He'll probably be fine.'

That sounded far too accommodating of her, there had to be a catch. Then he figured out what it was. 'Did you untie them?' he asked.

Her hand slid a little further up his leg, too high as far as he was concerned, and he jerked away. 'Are you really more concerned with them right now?' she asked, unable to suppress a smirk of satisfaction at his obvious embarrassment.

The way she was looking at him, like a kid in a candy store, sent shudders right through him, so yes, it was easier to focus on Teyla and Ronon than this sordid little set up. 'Did you untie them?' he repeated in answer to her question.

She sighed as if she found the topic of conversation wearisome. 'You know...in all the excitement I believe I forgot. But they're a resourceful pair. I'm sure they'll find a way to free themselves...eventually.'

Considering the tightness of his own bonds, Sheppard seriously doubted that. If he could have got his hands free he would have willingly strangled her on the spot. He tried not to picture his friend suffering while Teyla had to watch him die. And if nobody found them, she would die, too. He couldn't let that happen.

To his horror, she climbed up on the bed beside him, laying her body alongside his, pressing in close to him. 'Aren't you going to say something about your own...situation?'

He set his jaw and stared up at the ceiling. 'What's to say? It's not exactly a surprise.'

She smiled, lazily trailing a finger down from his restrained wrist along the length of his arm and down to his ribs, pushing the blanket down as she progressed and stopping only when she reached his bruised hip and he flinched at the contact. 'So, I'm too predictable for you? Would you like more excitement?'

'I didn't say that,' he grunted, teeth clenched, body frozen.

'You really are a very stubborn man, John Sheppard. When I saw you out on that road, I felt sure you would stop shooting before I reached you, but no, you were determined to stand your ground. You have spirit, I'll grant you that.'

'And yet you've made it your mission to crush that out of me. I guess it's not as appealing as you make it sound.'

'Why so bitter, John? You've brought this on yourself, after all.' Her hand slid across his chest, her slender fingers entwining themselves in the hair growing there and giving it a tug. 'But that doesn't matter now. We're starting afresh, and as long as you co-operate, I promise things will be very easy for you. But if you don't I can make this very unpleasant.'

Her hand slipped a little lower, but he twisted his torso away from her, leaving her in no doubt how he felt about her idea of co-operation.

'A few hours ago you swore to do_ anything _if I spared your friends,' she reminded him.

'That was before you decided to shoot one of them,' he hissed, fixing his furious stare on her now.

'You still took the sedative and agreed to come with me for a lesson in humility. '

'But I never promised to be a good student,' he pointed out, hoping she didn't touch him again.

To his relief, she didn't. Instead, she slid off the bed and walked across to a chair in the corner of the room, retrieving some clean clothes from it and tossing them onto the bed before returning to stand over him. She then pulled a gun from the back of her belt to ensure he behaved while she untied him. 'That's true – you didn't,' she agreed. 'But it will be to your detriment of you're not, because I promise you, I am a very good tutor.'

The implied threat wasn't wasted on him. She kept her eyes on him the whole time as she untied his wrists as if underlining her message, and then gestured for him to sit up. He did so carefully, testing his body for aches and pains and finding they thankfully felt no worse than bruises and scrapes.

'Now, get dressed quickly and join me in the next room,' she ordered, walking away but leaving the door ajar so she could still see him.

Figuring modesty and dignity were pretty much going to be denied to him from now on, Sheppard feigned indifference and cast aside the blanket to pull on the clothes she'd supplied, not that the outfit extended to shoes. Of course, she wasn't about to make escape an attractive and plausible option to him; he definitely couldn't run faster than her if he had no shoes, not that he thought he could anyway.

The clothes, obviously some she'd taken from the villagers, fitted where they touched, but were a little loose. He yanked the drawstring belt on his trousers as tight as he could, tied it off, then sat down for a moment to collect his thoughts.

Ronon and Teyla still needed his help. They were hundreds of miles away from both him and the rest of their people and out of reach of the medicines, food and water that they needed. Shoes or not, he needed to get out of there and find a way back to them. No matter what the cost to him personally, he had to try to help them.

oooOOOooo

In the warehouse, Ronon had slipped into some kind of uneasy slumber, his face pale and glistening with perspiration and his tunic stained with a large patch of dark blood. At least it seemed his bleeding had stopped, since the stain had grown no larger and seemed to have dried out in the past few hours as Teyla had struggled to free herself from her meticulously knotted bonds. Her wrists now raw and bruised from the effort, she was forced to give up and rest, exhaustion beginning to take its toll. Her head lolled and her eyes drew shut, but she wrenched them open again the instant she realised what had happened. No. No, she couldn't sleep. Ronon needed her and if she slept now, she would only wake up feeling weaker and less able to help in a few hours time.

It seemed Sarayah had abandoned them to their fate now that she had what she wanted. They had indeed been abducted merely as part of her mind games as Sheppard had called them. Now, no longer needed as the bait in her cruel trap, she had left them to fade slowly, a vile punishment indeed for those closest to the colonel. Well, this wasn't the end she intended for herself and her child, nor Ronon for that matter. She would not let Sarayah beat her while there was still breath in her body to fight with.

As she gazed across at Ronon in the fast fading light, she spotted the syringe lying near his feet, the one John had dropped after injecting himself with the sedative. It wasn't glass, but if broken it might form a sharp enough edge to cut through the ropes holding her. Even the point of the needle itself could be employed, though it would take far longer to pick her way free with it. As a parting gesture, Sarayah had tossed a field dressing on the floorboards a few feet away from them, a token symbol of assistance and something Ronon would doubtless benefit from, but while tied they could not make use of it. If she could use the syringe to cut the ropes, then Sarayah's taunt would be turned around on her. Her mocking gesture would possibly make the difference between life and death. But to have any hope of reaching it, she needed Ronon's help.

'Ronon! Ronon, can you hear me.'

The Satedan lifted his head, his eyes cracking open a fraction to look her way. 'Yeah, I hear you,' he grunted, his voice weaker than she would have liked to hear.

'How are you feeling?'

'I've been better,' he answered, wincing as he tried to find a comfortable position to sit in. 'But I'm still here.'

'I know you are in pain, Ronon, but do you think you could kick that syringe toward me?' she asked, struggling to keep the worry from her tone. Ronon did not look well, and she was frightened for him, but he didn't need to know that.

He arched an eyebrow, then craned his neck to look down toward his feet, stretching his leg out to drag it a little closer. Even that small movement caused him to suck in a sharp breath, but Teyla knew Ronon would get through the pain. It was not in his nature to give up while there was still life in him.

Taking a deep breath, he kicked the syringe in her direction, crying out, but instantly reining it in. Teyla stopped the needle with her foot as it rolled her way, then stamped on it, breaking it into several large fragments.

'Nice plan,' Ronon grunted, giving her an approving grin, but only briefly, as even that seemed to use too much energy.

'I only wish I had thought of it sooner,' she confessed.

Though pregnant, she had remained active, and still maintained a certain level of flexibility. Sweeping the pieces back toward the post she was secured to with one foot, she then began the arduous and painful task of swivelling herself around the huge wooden strut. Sarayah had secured her well, tying her arms behind the post, then wrapping ropes around her to pin her back to it. Though the wood scraped her back through her clothes, and the ropes burned her skin as she moved beneath them, she pressed on with her plan, eventually lining up her hands with the shattered plastic cylinder. Carefully feeling for and nudging the closest shard into place, she took it in her grasp and began furiously dragging it back and forth across the ropes on her wrists.

It was laborious work, and without the benefit of vision she had no idea whether it was working. Ronon, however could see her progress, and kept urging her on between shallow breaths. She was thankful for his encouragement, because the angle at which she had to hold the plastic made her hand cramp terribly and the knowledge she was succeeding made the discomfort worthwhile. Eventually, after a considerable time, she felt something snap and the ropes on her wrists loosened so she was able to shake them free. Manoeuvring out of the ropes around her arms was still difficult, but thankfully Sarayah had tied them above her stomach and not below. After some wriggling, she was able to work the ropes up high enough to get her thumbs hooked under them and push them higher and off over her head.

Freedom had never tasted so sweet.

Armed with her rudimentary blade, she set to work on Ronon's tethers. Finding it easier to hold the cutting implement at the required angle, the ropes were sheared far more quickly this time, and once his wrists were unfettered she was able to ease the other binding up the same way she had her own, although Sarayah had used far more rope on him. Apparently, she hadn't deemed a pregnant woman dangerous enough to secure so thoroughly, and although revenge was not an idea Teyla often courted, right now, she would happily prove Sarayah wrong in her theory.

Ronon slumped to the floor and clutched at his side, finally able to change position. 'My butt is killing me,' he grumbled, bringing a smile to Teyla's lips.

'And that is the thing that concerns you most?' she asked, gently pulling his hand away from his injury and lifting his shirt to examine it. The bullet had skimmed his side, taking out a chunk of flesh, but undoubtedly missing any internal organs. She allowed herself a sigh of relief, before thinking about how best to treat his wound.

'Lie still until I return,' she told him, pushing up in her now far less gain manner and looking about her.

'I'm not going anywhere,' Ronon replied, and for once, she knew he wasn't.

An oil lamp hung near the door of the warehouse, a little too high for her to reach, but with a quick rearrangement of some boxes, she was able to climb up to it. 'I am going to see what I can find Ronon. I will return shortly.

'Whatever you say.'

That was when she knew how much pain he was in. Ronon in anything less than agony would have insisted they stay together and gone hunting for provisions alongside her. Instead, he dropped his head back to the floor, his limbs falling limp.

The lamp thankfully felt heavy with oil, so all she had to do was make a flame to ignite the wick. She pulled her firelighter from the pocket inside her jacket, the one Athosian item the team from Atlantis had never been able to better. If Sarayah had found it while relieving her of her weapons and tac-vest, she clearly hadn't realised what it was, thinking it was simply a decorative charm or something of the likes, because she Teyla felt sure she would have taken it from her had she know its true use. She lit the lamp to find her way in the dark and unfamiliar territory outside the warehouse doors. Her thoughts drifted to Sheppard, but thinking of his plight was simply too painful. Seeing him so helpless in that woman's hands had been unbearable, but right now she had to concentrate on what she could do for Ronon. Sheppard's fate was outside of her control for now. Hopefully the Ancestors would keep him safe until help came from another source.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

Pulling the door open a fraction further, Sheppard peered out into the room beyond the bedroom to prepare himself for what he had to face. Everything in view seemed fairly innocent, just a basic house setup, not a torture chamber or dismal dungeon or anything more macabre. It appeared to be nothing more than some kind of living/dining room judging by the nature of the furnishings, and, just as back in the village they'd left behind, it all reminded him of the Colonial style of living– the furniture built of wood to simple designs for purely functional reasons.

Sarayah sat on a ladder back seat with her feet resting at an angle on the top of a solid looking wooden table, her body turned so that she had no doubt enjoyed an unimpeded view into the bedroom as he'd dressed. Her left hand toyed with a plate of food that sat on the table in front of her setting, while her right hand still clutched the revolver she'd brandished on him earlier. She watched him with an expression of mild amusement as he edged around the door, taking everything in. At the other end of the table, he spotted a similarly laden plate waiting for a taker, and behind her a fire burned in the huge brick fireplace, no doubt the only source of heat in the building. This room definitely felt warmer than the bedroom had. She'd clearly been busy while he'd slept; if it hadn't been her sitting there waiting for him he'd have described it a downright homely.

Thinking it better to wait for an invitation, he remained hovering in the doorway, trying to hide his disgust as Sarayah cast an appreciative eye over him. 'Hmmm, much better. Those other clothes were so filthy after your accident I couldn't bear to leave you in them.'

Much as Sarayah didn't seem to mind dirt per se, she certainly liked her men clean. He'd gathered that much from the various times she'd insisted on preening him in the past. He jealously eyed his BDU shirt, which she still wore probably purely to provoke him, and wished he could take it back. However, since he suspected she didn't have anything on underneath, he thought he might just let her keep it. More annoying was the way she was now also flaunting his sweatband on her right wrist, just the way he wore it. But at least she'd let him keep his dog tags this time...so far. 'Very thoughtful,' he grunted, tugging up the trousers that seemed determined not to sit as high on his hips as he wanted them to and tightening the belt a little more.

'I don't approve of the facial growth, though,' she told him. 'I took some hygiene items from the village along with other provisions, so we can fix that in the morning.'

'Great,' he replied, still hanging back from the table. Shaving hadn't been high on his list of priorities for the past few days, so he was a little bluer in the chin than was customary for him. To be honest, it still wasn't much of a priority, especially since the stubble didn't appeal to her. He might have to see if he couldn't find some excuse for hanging onto it a while longer.

The sight of the food on the table was truly tempting, though. He was ravenously hungry, but something about accepting a meal from Sarayah literally turned his stomach. He wasn't sure he could eat it even if he was intended to.

'Come here, John,' she ordered. He hesitated, then, realising it was pointless to refuse, walked a little closer. She sat up, unhooking a loop of rope from the back or her chair. 'Hold your hands out.' For a second or two, he actually toyed with telling her she hadn't used the magic word, but again decided against that move. The fact she had a gun trained on him helped, of course. He extended his arms toward her and she passed the loop over his wrists pulling it tight before daring to set down the gun and finish tying it off. 'Why don't you join me, John,' she instructed, picking the gun up again and gesturing with it to the seat behind the other plate. 'I brought some food for us from the village to tide us over until we get properly settled in. They don't need as much back there these days anyway.'

Her joke grated on just about every nerve that hadn't already been fried. He thought about telling her just what she could do with her food, just to make a point, but since he hadn't fully recovered from the after effects of the sedative and his argument with the truck, he decided against that route. Shuffling across the room and sliding into the chair, he watched her get up and pour him a cup of water, setting the jug down and sitting in the chair adjacent to him.

'You must be hungry. You haven't eaten since breakfast, if you even ate then. Did you manage breakfast, John?'

He figured it was a good thing you couldn't actually wear a name out, since she had to be going for some kind of record with his. Of course, he knew she was overdoing things because he'd already told her he didn't like her using his name that way the last time they'd met, so it was futile to go over old ground.

'Yes, I had breakfast,' he replied flatly.

'Good thing you did.' To his great chagrin, she reached over and ran her fingertips down his shirtfront, right down to his stomach. 'Wouldn't do for you to lose too much weight. You don't exactly have a lot to spare.'

No doubt there was an insult in there somewhere, a suggestion he was too lean to be strong or something of the likes, but he decided not to rise to the bait. Instead, he watched with disdain as she hopped up onto the table, sitting beside his plate, and then picked up something resembling a strawberry and took a bite.

'Ummm, the fruits on this planet are delicious. Almost makes it worth getting trapped here, don't you think?'

'Not really,' he grunted.

Eating the rest of that berry, she picked up another and bit into it. 'Of course, present company makes it even more tolerable. The past few months have been tedious at best, but my patience has certainly paid off.'

'You do realise my people will come for me, don't you?'

Her dark orbs held his, a flicker of a smile crossing her lips. 'And how exactly will they do that when we're so far away?' she asked, leaning a little closer.

'They'll order a jumper to mount a search.'

The flicker turned into a full-blown smirk now, and he visualised throttling the life out of her to stop himself from doing something rash and regretting it. 'Will they? Or is it not true that your Colonel Carter thinks it too much of a risk to bring another of your ships through the ancestral ring because the Divine One might destroy it?'

Sheppard tried not to react to that. He'd had that conversation with Teyla while she had still been inside Frah Mussa's house, but he supposed that with her keen hearing and their raised voices it was more than plausible that she'd overheard.

'You didn't think I knew about that, did you?' she asked. 'But perhaps you consider yourself special enough for her to take the risk.'

He glowered at her from beneath sullen brows, hating the fact she had an answer to pretty much everything he threw at her. One day she would make a mistake. One day...

'No...I don't think you do. You wouldn't want one of your own kind to give their life for you. You're far too noble for that.' She tried to put what remained of the berry in his mouth, but he clamped his lips shut. She looked genuinely surprised by his reaction, sitting up a little straighter and asking, 'What's wrong, John?'

Though the situation didn't really call for it, he laughed, shaking his head. 'You want the full list or just the abridged version?'

She cocked her head, frowning. No, he supposed they didn't have abridged texts on Medulsa, so that little joke had been a waste of time for both of them. Okay, he didn't mind letting her have it chapter and verse.

'I don't know what delusions are flying around in that sick little head of yours, but this is not some cosy little get together, I am not happy to be here, I'm not going to sit back and let you walk all over me, and I am not going make nice with you over some fruit just because I'm hungry.'

'It's just food, John. What's the problem?' she asked innocently, trying once again to insert the half-eaten fruit into his mouth.

He caught her wrist and pushed her hand down. 'You know as well as I do that this is not about the food, and you need to understand that whatever you're planning is not going to happen.'

'Just eat, John...please. There's no need to make this hard on yourself.'

'I'm happy to eat the food, but I want to pick it up myself,' he clarified.

She leaned further over him, her face close to his. 'Why? Am I tainted, John? Is that what you think?' she enquired, her fierce gaze blistering as she stared down on him. He noticed her move the gun so it rested on her knees, the barrel pointing his way.

'I can feed myself,' he reiterated, refusing to be drawn on her questions.

'Please co-operate, John. It will be much more pleasant for both of us if you do.'

Instead of doing as she asked, Sheppard pushed the plate away, sitting back and giving her a defiant glare. 'You know what? For some reason, I'm not feeling all that co-operative. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that one of the friends you promised to release if I gave myself over to your control is now injured, and both are tied up with no food or water, and no hope of rescue.'

'We've already discussed this. I never said anything about releasing them,' she pointed out.

'Semantics!' he spat, losing his temper for a moment. 'You insinuated it because you knew that was the one and _only _way to get me away from the village alone.'

After staring long and hard at him, a smile cracked her face. 'Of course, you're right, but if you're honest with yourself, I'm sure you never really thought it would be that simple. You gave yourself to me because it was easier than taking their lives with your own hand. Now you're angry because you deem the fate I have dealt them too cruel. But all that is behind us, so now that you're here, why don't you just do as I ask?'

'You didn't keep your end of the bargain, so neither will I.'

She stood abruptly, causing him to flinch more than he would have liked to, but she didn't strike him. To his surprise she left the room, disappearing out of his sight for a few minutes. He thought about bolting for the door and throwing off the heavy beam barring it, but, in the middle of nowhere, hands tied and barefoot, where would he run to? She'd proved on Karafus that she was far more adept in these kinds of environments that he was. Yes, he was good in the field, but she'd spent all her life in this kind of terrain, hunting both animals and escaped prisoners and overpowering them. Her movements and responses to the land were instinctive, not learned through training as his were. She was fast, smart and had the added advantage of not suffering from conscience. He suspected the latter would always give her the edge.

When she returned, the gun was tucked in her belt, and instead she carried a cloth pouch, placing it carefully down at the other end of the table. From inside it she produced a set of latex gloves, presumably also courtesy of Jennifer's medical kit. She snapped them on, her eyes fixed on him all the time, and his mind raced with all the hideous things she might be planning to do while wearing those gloves. He'd once had the dubious pleasure of meeting an Afghan prison warden who snapped his gloves on in just the same way; that had been an experience never to repeat.

With a barely suppressed grin, she then pulled out a small bottle, roughcast, probably handmade, definitely not from the Atlantis infirmary. Taking out the cork stopper, she poured a little of the contents onto her own plate, picking up a piece of fruit and swirling it in the dubious fluid.

Coldness seeped into him. There were only two liquids he knew she had in her possession. One was the sedative, the other...

'Maybe you think the food is too bland?' she asked, holding up the berry and watching a droplet of the liquid drip back onto the plate. 'Perhaps you prefer something with a little more kick.'

In an instant, he was on his back, a swift kick from her booted foot sending the table slamming into him with such force it bowled him and his chair right over. Stunned by the blow to the back of his head the sudden change of position delivered, she ran the full length of the table and was on top of him before he could even begin to rise, punching him to ensure he didn't fight back. Though the left jab knocked him dizzy and split his lip, he remained cognisant enough to catch her wrist before she could force the fruit on him.

They wrestled, Sarayah grinning as if this was the height of fun for her, and when his injured arm weakened, she knew she had him; he could see the sense of victory written all over her face. The fruit touched his mouth, brushing against the open cut, while several drops of the slightly bitter tasting coating seeping past his lips and reaching his tongue despite his best efforts not to ingest it. That was evidently enough for her purposes, and she sat back on her heels as he rubbed his mouth in a futile attempt to get rid of the poison.

He bucked her off him, grabbing the cup of water from the table and rinsing and spitting several times while she laughed at his futile efforts.

He tossed the cup away, narrowing his eyes. 'You brought me all the way out here just to kill me? Why?'

'Don't be so melodramatic, John. Do you honestly think I would have handed you a syringe of poison in that warehouse if I didn't have a goodly measure of serum with me?'

His jaw dropped. 'You were going to save Ronon?'

She laughed at that mere suggestion. 'Hardly, but you and a syringe of poison are an unpredictable combination. I had to be sure I could save myself...or you if necessary,' she told him. 'Of course, had you used it on yourself I would have killed both of your friends in retribution, and then saved your life so you could see what your actions had done to them. And I'll save your life now...once it all gets too much for you.' She pulled her gun from the back of her belt and charged toward him, forcing him back to the wall where she pinned him with a hand to his chest. 'Let's call this your first lesson in humility,' she purred, stroking the barrel of the 9-mil down his cheek. 'When someone offers you food, you should always be gracious enough to accept.'

The first dull throbs behind his eyes set in and panic rose within him at the thought of what was to come. He knew she would be able to feel his fear as the rapid thumping of his heart and the heat of his perspiring skin permeated through his shirt and into her palm. Her eyes roamed all over his face, looking for traces of it in his expression, and she no doubt found them there. Seemingly satisfied that she had shaken him enough, she walked away and resumed her seat at the table, removing her gloves and grabbing up his plate of food as she passed it. Then, she made herself comfortable and devoured his meal right there in front of him while she waited for the show to begin.

oooOOOooo

Teyla slipped back into the warehouse carrying all the supplies she had managed to gather. The houses had many rudimentary cooking and eating implements, so she had found a jar to fill with water from a nearby stream and some dried fruits and conserves in jars that were presumably left over from last few weeks spent there. It made sense to leave some sustenance on site to use on arrival, and she hoped their being there early and using up some of their supplies wouldn't cause too much of a problem for the migrating villagers. Along with the foodstuffs, she also found a small stock of wines aging in a cool cellar room. A roughly woven bag mad of cord served to transport her various finds on her way back to the barn where Ronon lay waiting for her.

She hurried in, closing the door to keep out the worst of the cool night air, struggling to handle the lamp along with everything else she bore. She set it down as soon as she stepped inside the door to ensure she didn't drop and break it, then carried the other things to Ronon, laying them out on the floor before picking up the dressing Sarayah had callously tossed on the ground to mock them.

Slightly out of breath from all her rushing round, she knelt beside him and poured some of the fresh stream water she'd collected into a cup, then tipped it to his lips. He opened his eyes, drinking gratefully, and then taking the cup from her to help himself more quickly.

Once the cup was emptied, he asked, 'Are you all right?'

'Yes, I moved a little quicker than I am used to of late, but I am fine.'

She tore a strip of fabric from the lining of her jacket, soaking it with water as she pushed up his shirt to reveal the wound on his waistline again. He was lucky it was nothing more than a deep knick in his skin and muscle, which, though no doubt very painful, was thankfully unlikely to have done damage to any of his organs. The bloodloss, though substantial to begin with, had slowed to a controllable level now, and as she cleaned away the worst of the staining on his skin, it was slow to return to the surface.

Once she had cleaned away enough of the congealed blood covering his side to ensure there was no dirt in the wound, she took the stopper out of the bottle of wine, the aroma of the fermented fruit instantly catching her fiend's attention. 'Now _that's_ a good idea,' he said, snatching the bottle from her grasp and guzzling back a good measure.'

'Ronon!' she gasped, plucking it back out of his hand. 'I brought that in the hope it might go some way to cleaning your injury. Our medical kits always contain alcohol, and I know this wine is not quite the same thing, but hopefully there is something in its formula that will stop infection, or at least reduce the risk.'

She poured a measure over his side, the stinging sensation causing him to hiss, but not too much. Ronon was used to pain and rarely let it get to him. Pulling more fabric from her jacket, she dabbed the area around the injury a little drier before applying the pressure dressing and securing it. Then, figuring there was no point in denying him, she passed the wine bottle back to him. 'Here, perhaps a little would help keep the discomfort in check.'

'It's not so bad,' he insisted, pushing up and sitting with his back leaning against the strut he had been tied to earlier. He took a long drink, then wiped the bottleneck and held it out toward Teyla.

She politely declined. 'No, Dr Keller has told me that alcohol during pregnancy should be kept to a minimum. I have decided to cut it out altogether until my child is born.'

'Right. You wanna give him the best possible start,' Ronon nodded, letting his head drop back and closing his eyes again.

Teyla couldn't help but hear the irony in those words. That was exactly what she'd wanted to do, but this was hardly the best of starts for any unborn child.

Ronon was pale and looked exhausted, probably due to a mixture of the drugs Sarayah had used on him combined with his bloodloss. Teyla pushed a jar of conserved fruit into his hand. 'Here, Ronon. You should eat to rebuild your strength.'

He opened his eyes to look at what she'd given him, ripping off the lid and devouring a good portion of the contents in one mouthful. 'Whoa, that's sweet,' he grimaced, eating the rest regardless, then quickly pouring himself some water to help wash them down.

Teyla ate some herself, the sugary taste clinging to her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She didn't mind it too much, but she had a far sweeter tooth than her friend, who preferred his meat to preserves. 'I know, but they will help sustain us until we can get help.'

'And how exactly are we going to get that?' he asked. You heard what Sarayah said. We're over a hundred miles from the village now, and Carter doesn't want to risk any more jumpers coming through and getting stranded or damaged.'

'I am certain that under these circumstances she will take the risk,' Teyla told him, popping something very like a date into her mouth.

'But she doesn't know the circumstances,' Ronon pointed out. 'Carter has no idea if we're alive or how far away we are...and Sheppard –'

He stopped talking, his jaw clenching in fury.

'John will be all right, Ronon,' she told him, not sure she believed what she was saying. It had been heartbreaking to watch his turmoil over the choice Sarayah had put before him, and then to watch him hand himself to her, so vulnerable and incapacitated. She couldn't bring herself to think about what that meant. Thoughts like that were not helpful at a time when there was little they could do to help him.

'If you are up to it, I feel it might be better for us to move into one of the houses. They look more comfortable and there are fireplaces where we can keep warm.'

'I can manage,' he insisted, trying to push up to his feet. Teyla steadied him, and loaned her shoulder for support as they walked to the door, where she collected the lamp and they headed back out into the night.

They stopped a few feet from the barn door and looked around at the buildings, all wooden unlike the brick built structures in the more permanent village, but very much the same in outward design. Teyla peered up at her friend. 'Do you have a preference?'

He shook his head. 'Nope, I say we just head for the closest.'

'Agreed.'

And that they did, hobbling in its direction past a small stone monument central to the settlement, possibly built to honour the Divine One. As they neared it, the light of the lamp Teyla carried illuminated the area and Ronon spotted something resting on top of it.

'What's that?' he asked, nodding his head in its direction.

Teyla saw it, too, now and steered him toward the monument to take a closer look. To their surprise, there on top of the sculpture sat a radio.

Teyla frowned, picking it up and finding it operational. 'Why would she do this? Why would she leave a means for us to contact the others?'

'Because she likes playing games,' Ronon grumbled, looking around them as if he suspected she could still be around. 'C'mon. Let's get inside where we can defend our position more easily.'

'You think she might return?' she asked, the though sending a rush of cold right through her, as she wrapped his arm around her shoulders again.

'I wouldn't put anything past her,' the Satedan replied, wincing and holding his side.

She nodded, the two of them moving quickly toward the closest of the residential buildings. She understood Ronon's point, but she wondered if the radio represented something more. Did Sarayah perhaps think they deserved a chance of survival if they managed to get themselves free? She didn't know and couldn't pretend to know whether Sarayah was even capable of that small level of compassion. Or perhaps Ronon was right, and this was another of her mind games. Did she suspect she might need to make contact with them to further torment Sheppard? Or maybe it was just meant to give them a way to be in touch with the friends who had no hope of reaching them.

The workings of that woman's mind were so twisted she could not hope to fathom what this latest gesture meant.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for your continued following for this story, and all the reviews/alerts/favourites. It's good to know people on the whole are enjoying this after all the work put into it. :D**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 **

The night had well and truly set in now, and was still only mildly cooler than the shrivelling heat of the day.

Rodney tugged his sweat soaked T-shirt away from his sticky skin, discomfort adding to his stress as he tried to fall asleep. 'I still can't believe Sheppard would just hand himself over like that...what was he thinking?'

Sam rolled her eyes, and he knew why. He'd been repeating that same question since they'd realised he was missing, and they didn't have an answer because they still hadn't located the errant colonel yet.

'Rodney, like I said before...several times...we have no idea what ultimatum Sarayah put to him, so let's not judge his decision just yet.'

'But he knows what she's like...what she wants from him...how could anyone in their right mind just walk into a trap knowing what was waiting for them?'

'Think about it, Rodney. For John to do that, the situation must have been unavoidable. Put yourself in his shoes. If you were him and Sarayah told you your friends would die unless you handed yourself over to her, you would have done the same thing, wouldn't you?'

His throat started to clamp shut just thinking about the scenario, but frightening as the idea was, he realised his conscience wouldn't have allowed him not to. 'Yeah...I guess I would have...'

'Now get some sleep, Rodney. We have people looking for John and the others. I'm sure they'll find them eventually.'

It was the "eventually" that had him worried. Time was slipping by, time that Sheppard and his friends were now passing at a crazy woman's whim. Sighing, he rolled over in his sleeping bag again, shuffling around and trying to get comfortable. How these military types managed to sleep in these conditions was a mystery to him. His mind began ticking over again, full of the day's work. 'I think I may have an idea what's wrong with the Ancient systems in the research facility. If I just –'

'Rodney,' Sam said, sounding exasperated. 'I thought we'd agreed to get a few hours of sleep before tackling it again.'

'Well, we did, but I just wanted to run my theory past you so it isn't buzzing around in my head like some annoying little mosquito while I'm trying to sleep.'

Sam propped herself up on her elbow, and switched on her torch. 'So you'd prefer it to be buzzing around in my head instead?'

'Well...when you put it like that, it does sound a little...selfish?' he ventured, not sure if he was right about that, but he'd been accused of it so many times in the past he figured it was probably what she was thinking.

'Colonel Carter?'

A voice from outside their tent disturbed them, and Carter shuffled toward the entrance to see who it was. As she pulled back the tent flap, Rodney could see Frah Lisso lurking just outside.

'I'm sorry for the intrusion. Your man guarding the ruins said I could come and speak with you.'

'Of course.' Carter crawled out into the open and Rodney followed her, wondering what the hell the Frah was doing out her alone so late.

'I was wondering if you have found any trace of your missing people yet,' Lisso asked, his fingers anxiously woven before him.

Rodney glanced down at them, shuddering at the missing joints. He still couldn't get used to that.

Sam shook her head grimly. 'Not yet. We have a search team heading out along the migration route Colonel Sheppard was last seen walking toward, but as yet they haven't located him or the others.'

'And since Sarayah has a vehicle...' Rodney added.

'She may be very far away,' Lisso said sadly. 'This is terrible. I feel we are in some way responsible because we would not listen when Colonel Sheppard warned us of her nature.'

'Yes, well, if you'd trusted us it might have helped.'

The look Carter threw him silenced Rodney on the spot. 'But it's doubtful,' she added. 'Sarayah's disagreement with Colonel Sheppard is a long running feud. She would have got to him somehow. How's Frah Mussa holding up?'

'He is terribly unwell, but his condition is stable...at least that is how your Dr Keller described it. She is wonderful with the sick.'

'Yes, that would be _why _she's a doctor,' Rodney snorted.

'Rodney!' Carter warned again.

Rolling his eyes, he folded his arms over his chest and bit his tongue. Apparently, Sam still thought these guys deserved some respect, an opinion he didn't share.

'And your work with fixing the problem with the Stargate, is that going well?' the Frah asked. 'Your guard told me you had been working at the ruins all day. How will that help?'

'We believe the database stored here might hold the answers as to why the 'gate won't connect.'

'And have you found any answers?'

'Not yet...but we're hopeful,' Sam smiled.

The Frah also smiled and nodded. 'There is always hope.'

'_Colonel Carter, this is Teyla. Please respond!'_

Rodney froze, his eyes locked with Carter's. Had he really heard that? After a second or two of shocked pause, she grabbed at her radio.

'Teyla, this is Sam. Where are you?'

'_We are not sure exactly –'_

'We,' Rodney interrupted. 'Are Ronon and Sheppard there with you?'

'_Ronon is still here with me, but I'm afraid Sarayah has taken Colonel Sheppard away with her.'_

'Of course she has,' Rodney said sourly, wondering why he had allowed himself to hope for anything else.

Carter cast him a withering look. 'Rodney, let me handle this. Do you have any clues where you are, Teyla?'

'_Sarayah told me only that it was one of the migration points, but she did not say which one. There are many since the villagers only have animal drawn transport and cattle that need rest on the way to the other village.'_

'Okay, well, at least we know to follow the migration path –'

'_Sarayah is in possession of a motorised vehicle that moves at quite considerable speed. I believe we may be hundreds of miles from your position...and Ronon is injured.'_

'Injured? How badly?' Carter asked as Rodney felt all the colour drain from his cheeks.

'_Thankfully, it appears to be no worse than a deep flesh wound. I have cleaned and dressed it to the best of my abilities, and Ronon assures me he feels well enough, but I would be happier if Dr Keller were here to take a look at it.'_

'This is wondrous,' Frah Lisso beamed, holding his hands up to the sky. 'We should give thanks to the Divine One that he has seen fit to preserve them.'

'You'll excuse me if I don't considering _he's_ the reason we're in this mess,' Rodney growled back at him.

'Of course, I'll see what we can do about that,' Carter told Teyla, flicking Rodney another sour look.

'What about Sheppard?' he hissed.

Carter held up a finger to signal him to stay quiet. 'Teyla, did Sarayah give you any clue about her plans for the colonel?'

'_She spoke of atonement,' _Teyla told her, her voice cracking a little at the recollection_. 'She holds him personally responsible for her loss of status amongst her people and intends to teach him some kind of lesson.' _

'Oh, that _does not_ sound good!' Rodney panicked, images of the kinds of teaching methods Sarayah might employ flashing through his overactive imagination. Feeling slightly sick, he hugged his arms around himself, again angry that he hadn't realised that Sheppard was planning to go to her after they'd left the village. Sheppard had been his friend for almost four years, now. Why could he still not read him when it mattered?

'Okay, Teyla. You keep an eye on Ronon, get in touch whenever you need to, and I'll ask Major Lorne to send through a jumper team the next time he contacts us.'

'_Understood, Colonel Carter...and thank you,' _Teyla responded, the line falling silent.

Rodney gaped at Carter, wondering what she was basing that decision on. 'You're going to bring through a jumper? But we haven't ascertained what's causing that energy anomaly yet. The thing was drawn to the jumper like a moth to a flame. It might take out this jumper, too.'

'And it might not,' Sam shot back at him, rather more aggressively that was her normal tack. 'If you can give me another choice, I'm listening, Rodney.'

He stammered and stuttered, but he had nothing.

'Frah Lisso, if Sarayah has them stationed at a migration point, what kind of travelling time are we talking about?'

'The first stage point is two days travel away, even when making good progress. Sometimes it can take longer if the weather is bad or the cattle are restless.'

Sam looked back at Rodney again, and he understood her decision now. 'Our people are out there, McKay, possibly hundreds of miles from us, and they need our help. Do you suggest I ask them to wait until we can reach them by fastok and cart?'

'No...no, of course not. I want to get them back as much as you do – probably more – but I just wish...I wish we had more time to make sure it's safe.'

Sam gazed back at him, eventually conceding a smile that showed she understood his fears. 'I know, I wish that, too. But time is the one thing we don't have. They need us now, and I am not going to give that woman the chance to see through whatever sordid little plans she has in mind if I can help it.'

She stalked away to talk to the marine on guard, and Frah Lisso made his excuses to leave, his long dark coat barely skimming the ground beneath him as he left. At least the man had had the sense to cover up his white clothes so he wouldn't be seen so easily out there on his own.

Rodney hung back, all the data collected on the anomaly running through his head. There was nothing in it to suggest it was a definite threat to the jumpers, but the way it had behaved with them suggested otherwise. He hoped Sam was making the right call. The last thing they needed was more people trapped in this hellhole with no guarantee of ever leaving. He was under enough pressure as it was.

oooOOOooo

There was something quite intoxicating about the man when he was this...vulnerable, Sarayah decided, using the dampened cloth she clutched to cool Sheppard's feverish brow once again. He thrashed and let out a garbled cry at her touch, the water apparently painful on his hot skin.

It was fascinating to watch the severity of his reaction. He had huddled up in the corner of the room when the headaches first kicked in and remained there ever since, his arms wrapped around his head as protection, but protection from what she wasn't sure. It certainly wasn't enough to hold her back, and she mopped his brow again, forcing him to try to cover his face to stop her.

It had begun slowly, too slowly, leaving her wondering if she had overestimated the lantha berry's effects and given him too small a dose. She'd been careful to collect only the juice of the ripe berries for Sheppard's poison, so knew it would take time, but not having had a chance to experiment as much as she would have liked, she hadn't wanted to give him more than the antidote could counteract. Eventually, the symptoms had taken hold, and now she was witnessing what she had missed the other night, a rapturous performance so far despite his fervent attempts to block her out of it.

He lifted his head, his irises greener than ever in contrast to their bloodshot surroundings. 'Why don't you just leave me the hell alone?' he growled, burying his face into his arms again.

That amused her; even in his current state he was trying not to let go and allow the sickness to ravage him. He was desperately clinging to lucidity as if his last vestige of hope rode on it. Ignoring his request – or had it been a threat – she dabbed once again at the part of his forehead she could still see, eliciting a frustrated groan and another weak attempt to force her away from him, before he curled up into a ball again.

'Would you like the antidote now, John?' she asked. 'If you ask sweetly enough I will get it for you.'

'Go to hell.' The words were muffled, but she heard them well enough. He remained defiant even as the poison worked its spell. It was quite mesmerising really.

'All you have to do is ask agreeably and it's yours,' she urged, running her fingers back through his sweat-saturated hair.

He hissed at the pain the contact obviously caused him. 'I won't beg.'

No, he wouldn't, that much was clear. But that would change. Right now, he could still taste the freedom he'd only recently surrendered to her, but its flavour would fade, as had the memory of many of her favourite Medulsan dishes. She had learned to do without so many things she yearned for. Now it was his turn to understand the torment.

'They're just words, John. Just words. Say them and it's over. Who will think any less of you here?'

A spasm of pain took hold of him His head thrashed back and he gritted his teeth through it, his breathing laboured and heavy. Blinking the sweat from his lashes, he managed to focus on her again. 'And i...if I don't s...say them? Are you g...going to watch m...me die?' he asked.

He was clever this one, far too clever. Of course she wouldn't, but she would let him suffer until the very last moment she dared, that was for sure. If he wanted to fight her, if he wanted to prove himself more determined, more resilient, than she was, he would have to work for it, and eventually he would break.

They all did.

It wasn't as if Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was unique in his arrogance. No, she had come across many men who had fallen foul of Medulsan laws and thought they knew better. Every one of them had broken under her "care". That was her speciality; taming the untameable.

'No, you w...won't let me die. Where's the f...fun in that?' he half-laughed, pulling his knees tighter in as another wave of pain engulfed him.

A sudden and explosive fit of vomiting took hold of him. It was mostly fluid, little of any substance, and she only just managed to move aside to avoid it hitting her. She grimaced as he now fell forward on his knees and brought up everything his body had to spare, which apparently wasn't much. She didn't enjoy seeing him this way, not the vomiting, but at least it would be over soon by the looks of things.

Within minutes, he was able to do nothing but dry-heave, and she pulled him across the room and clear of the mess where he collapsed onto his back, pressing his bound hands to his stomach. She forced his head into her lap, despite his desperate attempts to pull away from her, and wiped his face clean, stroking the hair plastered across his forehead back from his face. 'Would you like the antidote now, John?' she enquired in her sweetest tone, stroking his face and neck.

'Screw...you!' he choked out, rolling off her lap onto his side and curling into a ball.

Though she wasn't entirely sure she knew what that meant, it sounded angry, definitely a word used in rage...and pain...and fear of course. Because try as he might to hide it from her, she knew Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard feared her. And that thought was the most pleasing thing she knew.

His breaths had shifted to shallow pants, the type you use to get through pain. She knew because she'd heard it often enough, from him and other men. His shirt clung to his back, almost transparent with perspiration, so she wet her cloth again from her flask of water and wiped it down the length of his spine. That sent him into another spasm, and a throat-shredding cry burst from his lips as he arced and thrashed against the floor.

She climbed on top of him, straddling him and pinning his shoulders as she tried to get him to focus, but he kept knocking her hands away, screaming about the fire licking at his skin. She remembered this stage from what she'd seen of the villagers. She wouldn't be able to leave him much longer now.

But his reaction was so fascinating she couldn't resist lifting his shirt and placing her hand flat on his stomach, feeling the saturated skin beneath her palm as he balled up away from her touch. Every area of skin she touched sent him into new levels if agony, and the more he hurt, the more she needed to do it, feeling drunk on his torment. In the end, he kept repeating the word 'Stop', but not once did he ask for the antidote.

Pupils now dilated and eyes wild, he suddenly looked at her with new horror, scrabbling away backwards across the floor, paddling with arms and legs too weak now to support his weight. 'No...no, you can't!'

'Can't what, John?' she asked, puzzled by this sudden change in conversation.

Sweat ran in rivulets down his face, dripping from his chin onto his shirtfront. She could see the material trembling with the force of his heart's hammering beats, his breathing now more shallow and stressed than ever.

'Y...you can't take it.'

'Take what?'

She imagined he was referring to the shirt she wore, or the wristband he'd always sported from the moment she'd seen him, material, trivial things that his kind seemed to treasure so highly, but it wasn't that at all. His hand lifted to his chest, covering the faint scar that remained there as he pressed himself back into the wall as though he hoped it would melt and absorb him.

'My life...' he whispered, turning his face away and curling up again, all the time defending the core of his being.

Having reached the hallucinatory stage of the poisons progression, he could now no longer see her, but some kind of Wraith monster. Deciding it had gone far enough, she slipped the bottle of antidote from her pocket, pulled his head back by a handful of wet locks, and poured it down his gullet.

Having ensured he swallowed it, she left him quivering on the floor, giving him the space and time he needed to recover from the worst of the effects. She sat back at the table and wondered at the names and curses streaming from his lips, watching him thrash out and coil up over and over against the spasms and false images firing through his mind.

Once he'd begun to calm, she slit the rope currently holding his wrists, dragging his hands behind his back and securing them there instead. Then she tied his ankles, all the time ignoring his feeble insistence that the bonds were burning his skin.

She left him then and headed for the bedroom, turning to take one last look at his shivering and pathetic form before heading for her bed. She could get a few hours sleep before he became anything like able to prove himself a problem, and that would see her through the next day. In her times on the run, she'd adapted to get by on very little sleep, and when she did rest, it was never deeply, so she would undoubtedly hear him if he tried to leave. Of course, if he were to escape somehow there was the chance he would come after her, since she held the ignition card to the truck on her person. If he tried to leave without transport, she would simply hunt him down and drag him back again for more punishment, and he was clever enough to know that.

With that thought in mind, she pushed the heavy chest in front of the door to block it. Now he wouldn't be able to get to her without alerting her to his efforts, even if he could crawl her way. And she didn't doubt he would try if he could. Wretched as he looked, he had not given in to her. How could he not have? What had she done wrong? It was almost as if he saw what she was doing as just another challenge to be surmounted to prove his worthiness and her...her what? Her unworthiness, she supposed. He looked down on her, he always had. Well, that would change. He would learn to respect her just as she deserved. It might take time, but out here in the backwoods of Guedeseo, with the humans afraid to risk any more troops from Atlantis, she would have a long time before they caught up with them, if they ever did.

That notion brought the smile back to her face. She had truly outsmarted the supposedly superior humans of Atlantis. That had to annoy Sheppard, even if he did mask it well. Hopefully, that was a thought that would accompany him through this torment until she joined him again in the morning.

oooOOOooo

The jumper flew through the gate and circled around, turning back to hover near McKay and Carter. With Ronon injured and far out of reach, and Sheppard probably even further from them and in an apparently vengeful Sarayah's hands, a jumper was their only hope of reaching any of them quickly, so Sam had decided to take the risk of bringing one through to Guedeseo.

'Ready to carry out Search and Rescue, Colonel,' the lieutenant at the flight controls reported briskly, his voice bristling with readiness to bring back their people.

'Thank you, Lieutenant,' Carter responded. 'We suspect our people's transmitters may have been damaged by a sonic weapon, so you'll need to scan for their bio-signals. I've written a programme to help you differentiate between humans and any indigenous life forms. I'm uploading it now.'

'What? When did you do that?' Rodney demanded.

'Just after I asked for a jumper. It's not difficult, Rodney.' She stared him down until his mutterings stopped, then continued where she'd left off. 'All the human signals accounted for should be grouped either in the village, on the migration route, or here near the gate. You see any others further from here, that's probably them.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' Lieutenant Stevens acknowledge, readying the craft for departure.

'Oh, before you go, Lieutenant. Would you mind trying to dial the gate for us?'

Rodney rolled his eyes and folding his arms in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation. 'It won't work. We tried to dial the 'gate from our jumper when we first got here and we didn't get through.'

'Did you actually manage to dial the gate, or did the anomaly interrupt you?' Sam asked, biting back her annoyance with his tone.

She watched him cast his mind back, a look of realisation dawning on his face. 'Actually, you might be right. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.'

Throwing him a patient smile, she turned back to the jumper. 'Whenever you're ready, Lieutenant.'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

The lieutenant began the dialling process as instructed, striking the symbols of their Atlantis home. Five symbols in a flash of light so close it was blinding forced Rodney and Sam to shield their eyes against its brilliance, and a crashing sound rang out, the ground beneath their feet shuddering.

Sam lifted her head, the first thing in her line of sight being Rodney's horrified expression.

'Oh, nonononono!' he gasped, staggering forward a few steps and coming to a halt again.

Sam turned to where the jumper had been poised, finding it now sheared off, the front half completely missing.

'No!' she gasped, running toward the craft and jumping inside without thought for her own safety. Sheared circuit boards sparked and the engine pods smoked in a way that warned of a possible explosion, but she had to get to the injured personnel lying within the twisted wreckage.

There were six marines back there, some conscious, some not, all with some degree of injury in need of attention. Lorne's team launched into action alongside her, helping to lift the soldiers out and carry them to a distance where they hoped any blast from the smoking pod would do no further harm.

As she rushed back in the second time, she saw Rodney, still shell-shocked, staring at the destroyed vessel. 'McKay...contact Jennifer. Get her over here now!'

He looked blank for a moment, then nodded emphatically, fumbling for his radio and making the call. Carter and the other marines hauled the six injured personnel clear, applying tourniquets and pressure dressings where necessary to keep things under control until Jennifer could make an assessment and administer proper treatment.

Finally, with everyone safe and as comfortable as they could be, she dropped to the ground, exhausted. This had been one hellish day, and her call to bring in the jumper had just made it worse. Two personnel were dead, another jumper was wrecked, and they were still no closer to reaching their missing team members.'

Rodney sat beside her, dropping his head in his hands. 'Oh, this is like some kind of nightmare,' he whined. 'When are we gonna get a break.'

Sam draped an arm across her eyes to mask the tears standing in her eyes, threatening to fall. 'We're still alive, Rodney,' she said quietly. 'I think we should be grateful for that much right now.'

'Hey...what happened wasn't your fault,' he told her. 'You made the right call. We needed a jumper.'

'But we still don't have one, and now two good marines are dead,' Sam reminded him. 'I can't risk bringing another one through, and that means we can't get to Teyla, Ronon or John as quickly as we need to.'

Rodney fell silent for once, clearly pondering the gravity of this latest development. Then, he asked quietly, 'Do you want me to contact Teyla and Ronon and let them know what's happening?'

She sighed and forced herself up into a sitting position again. 'No, I should do it...but thanks, Rodney.'

He gave her a brief lop-sided smile, then it slipped away, leaving him looking dejected.

Sam walked away a few steps and took a few seconds to clear her head ready for this conversation. Then, she activated the radio. 'Teyla, this is Carter. I'm afraid we have some bad news...'

**A/N: Eeek...so a jumper's out of the question since the anomaly is reacting to them. Who can get to Sheppard to help him out now? Keep the reviews coming. They're always much appreciated. :D**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 **

A sudden burst of sunlight hitting him in the eye woke Sheppard from his disjointed and nightmarish slumbers. Having been plagued by images of the Wraith and the ghosts of dead friends through his hallucinations, sleep, when it had come, had been no more forgiving. Beneath him, the hard, cold floorboards were an unwelcome pressure against his aching back, but he didn't have the energy to push up and make himself more comfortable, especially since the act would no doubt only make him feel worse still. He lay there, wallowing in a moment of self-pity, one from which he knew he would be snatched soon enough.

Footsteps echoed across the wooden boards beneath him, sending agitating vibrations through his aching muscles. Since they were apparently alone, there was only one person that could be. He sighed, knowing his recuperation time was over already. He heard her cutting the ropes holding him before it had even registered that he was bound, but having his limbs free came as a relief anyway. His arms especially ached from being drawn behind him all night, and he rotated his shoulders as best he could to alleviate the strain.

'Get up.'

She had to be kidding. There was no way he could move right now. Cracking his lids open a little, he saw her standing over him, jaw set firm, and still wearing his damned shirt. That was really beginning to grate.

'I'd love to oblige, but some idiot poisoned my food last night, and now I'm not feeling too good,' he told her, letting his eyes droop shut again.

Apparently, that wasn't a good enough excuse for Sarayah, and she grabbed a handful of his hair to haul him up to his knees. He'd known punishment was coming in some form, but hadn't counted on just how sore his scalp would feel, making him let out a yelp of surprise he would have preferred not to reward her with. Still, he was almost upright now, and that was far more than he could have managed alone.

'I'm not sure what you think is happening here, John,' she said, letting go with a push that almost floored him again, 'but this is not some cosy little get together. You're here to learn your place in the universe, so amend you attitude accordingly.'

Many of her words had a familiar ring to them, resembling what he'd said to her last night right before she'd gone crazy on him. It seemed whatever he did or said by way of rebellion was going to come back and bite him on the butt. Okay, so he might have to toe the line for a while...and maybe he could do that. By now, Carter might have decided it was worth bringing a jumper through to search for him and his missing friends...although, knowing the risks, he wouldn't blame her if she hadn't. His mind wandered to Teyla and Ronon and their situation...wondering if Ronon was still hanging in there. The Satedan was a gutsy bastard. No doubt he would hang on for Teyla's sake if not for his own. He wouldn't want a friend to watch him fade away.

A bucket of water suddenly slid across the floor toward him, sloshing out and soaking his trousers as it banged against his knees. He hadn't even noticed Sarayah fetch it, he'd been so lost in his thoughts. He really needed to stay sharper than that if he wanted to keep one step ahead of her...or even keep up.

'You made a mess in here last night,' she told him, holding out a broom and a scrubbing brush in his direction. 'Now you're going to clean it up for me.'

He looked at the brushes and couldn't stop a lop-sided smile from breaking out. 'What, so this is your big plan to teach me a lesson? You're putting me on cleaning detail?'

'No. I just prefer not to have the stench of your supposed rebellion filling the room,' she retorted sharply. 'I would like to have some breakfast soon, and this room is not fit for that. Now get to work.'

'And if I refuse?'

She covered the short distance before him, dropping the long handled broom to the floor to free her hand to catch hold of his chin. 'You really don't want me to answer that question,' she assured him, squeezing so hard he felt sure her nails would draw blood, then following up by dropping a light kiss on his lips so unexpectedly and gently that it stunned him into momentary silence.

She backed off and folded her arms in challenge, so he made a big show of swiping the back of his hand over his lips to rid them of her taint, then picked up the broom, using the shaft to help lever himself to his feet. 'Don't suppose there's any chance of a drink before I get started on this. I've got a funny taste in my mouth.'

Though she pouted at the insinuation, she also conceded. 'Of course.' She crossed to the table, where a flask sat waiting and tossed it to him. Sheppard somehow managed enough co-ordination to catch it with his free hand. Holding the broom handle in the crook of his left arm, he unscrewed the lid and drank deeply, feeling instantly refreshed.

'Oh...I hope that's not the poisoned one...No, I'm sure it isn't, but being an idiot, I'm never completely sure,' she quipped, sitting at the table and propping her feet up on it to watch him work.

He hesitated, but the humorous glint in her eyes wasn't quite as cruel as normal, so he figured she was joking, just her way of getting back at him for his jokes at her expense.

'Oh, here,' she called over, rummaging in her pocket and pulling out a small egg-like item. She threw it his way, and as it skittered towards his feet he picked it up, realising from its waxy consistency and strong, sterile odour that it was some kind of soap bar. 'Drop that in the water to ensure you get that floor clean,' she ordered.

He did so, the water immediately unlocking the previously muted scent and leaving him feeling like he might just vomit again. To lessen the effect, he tried to breathe through his mouth as he picked up all the cleaning implements and set about the task.

Thankfully, most of what he'd brought back the night before had seeped into the floorboards, and the rest was so dried up it simply swept away and out of the door. The scrubbing was hard on his aching arms, especially since he had to do it all with his right one since his left was pretty much out of commission where hard labour was concerned. The smell of damp wood and evacuated stomach contents mingled with the antiseptic soap, setting him retching as he worked, something Sarayah no doubt enjoyed watching and caused his ribs to hurt even more badly than they had on waking. Eventually, sure he could do no more to improve the boards, he sat back on his heels and rested.

'Hmmm, not bad,' his captor purred, strolling over to inspect his work.

He peered up at her, spotting the way she was eying him with an expression that seemed to consist of an odd mixture of covetousness and disgust. As he looked down at himself he could clearly see where the disgust element was coming from. He was absolutely filthy from both his illness and his morning labours.

'Come outside,' she ordered, heading toward the door and dragging it open for him.

Sighing, Sheppard carefully pushed up to his feet and followed her to the doorway, walking out in front of her as she stopped to wait for him there. He half expected a cosh around the back of the head or a kick in the butt, neither of which materialised. All he got was a hand on the shoulder to stop him and an instruction to stand still. The air out there was chilly, far cooler than in the village they'd left behind, or the migration stage where she'd abandoned Teyla and Ronon. That gave her story more credence. He hadn't been sure whether she was lying when she'd told him his friends were too far away for her to help, but now, the different climate told him they were well along the migration route.

A fire burned within a stone circle – evidently Sarayah had been busy again while he'd been unconscious – and two birds on skewers cooked gently at a good height above the climbing flames.

'I think we need to get you cleaned up now, John,' she said. 'I've set you out some clean clothes, and there is soap and a razor to make yourself feel more human.' She slipped her gun from the back of her belt, but didn't aim it, just let him see it. 'Don't get any ideas about the razor, though, will you? I rather suspect I could shoot you much faster than you could lash out me.'

She jabbed the barrel of the revolver in the direction of the metal tub of water sitting beside the other items. He trudged reluctantly toward it and crouched down, picking up the soap and dipping it into the tub to lather it up between his palms. The water was warm, which was a pleasant surprise. Apparently his good behaviour since waking merited that much of a prize.

'You've done well this morning,' she told him as he dropped the soap into the water and swilled off his face. It smelled almost as bad as the other bar she'd given him to scrub the floor with, but he hoped it was less caustic on his skin. Again, he blocked out the smell and concentrated on how much better he would feel once cleaned up instead...although, it would unfortunately make him more interesting to his nutty little companion, too.

'There's a supply of water stored here in the village, but it has clearly been there for some time,' she told him as he slipped off his splint and soaped up his arms to where he had rolled back his sleeves. 'It's fine for washing and cleaning, but we will need to collect fresh drinking water as a priority. We only have a small container of it I brought with us and it's almost gone already.'

He didn't answer, figuring she knew as well as he did that there was most likely a stream or river nearby or they wouldn't have built a village there. He slipped his hands inside the unbuttoned neck of his shirt and washed under his arms and across his chest to rid them of the residual stickiness he'd woken with after his feverish night.

'I think you would find that much easier to do if you removed your shirt,' she pointed out, and when his eyes rose to hers, her expression told him that was more of a demand than a suggestion. With another sigh, he slipped it up and over his head, tossing it aside and washing himself more thoroughly.

He heard her walking around behind him and tried to ignore the fact he hated her lurking back there...at least until she reached into the tub and pulled out the soap, rubbing it over his back. 'Let me help you with this,' she insisted, lathering him up with one hand while holding the gun pressed to the back of his neck.

Though he wanted nothing more that to tell her to get the hell off of him, he chose to completely shut her out, refusing to comment on the way her hand passed slickly across the breadth of his back far more times than could actually be necessary. Occasionally, he felt her fingers tracking what he assumed were the scars she'd left on him, as if taunting him by reminding him of their existence. Eventually, the prolonged and incessant contact became too much for him to ignore any more, and he spun away from her touch with a defiant glare she apparently found highly amusing.

'I see you still aren't comfortable with that kind of thing,' she smirked. 'Too good to be touched by the likes of me, John?'

'That's not what I think at all,' he growled, picking up the razor as he continued to glare. He wasn't sure if he meant it as an implied threat or not, but it made him feel better to have it in his hand with her still standing so close.

'You're going to shave? That's a good idea,' she smiled, backing up a step or two and giving him a fiercely challenging look. Clearly, she'd anticipated the thought that had briefly formed in his mind, and her words, though seemingly neutral, held a hidden threat of their own.

Turning his back on her again, he began to soap up his chin, then used the blade as it was intended, though it was difficult without a mirror to check in. He had to rely on feel alone to know how he was doing. Unused to that type of razor, he nicked his skin a couple of times, but considering his situation, it hardly seemed worth worrying about.

'I could do that for you...it wouldn't be the first time,' she teased from behind him.

His memory stung at that reminder. 'I'm good,' he assured her, and he made sure he was.

Once he was certain his face was clear, he washed the soap off and sat shivering in the icy air, Sarayah now standing between him and the clean clothing she'd offered him.

'Don't suppose I could ask you to pass those?' he queried, dipping his head in their direction.

She looked down at them, then back at him. 'I'd be happy to...once you've finished. It would be a pity to pull clean clothes onto a dirty body.' Her eyes drifted down to his trousers, lingering there long enough for him to get the hint.

But of course she would expect him to get completely cleaned up. Why had he expected anything less? He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. 'No way am I playing to your voyeuristic tendencies.'

To his dismay, Sarayah aimed the gun his way, taking off the safety. 'There are a lot of places I could shoot you without killing you, John. Where should I start?'

It was the word "start" that worried him most, suggesting if he continued to defy her she wouldn't put just one slug in him, but a few. He wanted to challenge her, but the constant thought that he needed to stay fit nagged at the back of his mind. He'd already fallen foul of her with the poisoning last night; he needed time to recover as it was.

'Would it be too much to ask for a little privacy?' he ventured curtly.

'It's a little late for coyness, don't you think?' she smirked, folding her arms and waiting.

Though the thought of what those words meant sickened him, he just stared back at her, refusing to budge.

Eventually, with a sour look, she turned her back. 'I'm only agreeing because you're still too weak for me to punish...but if you try anything, I won't feel so lenient.'

Though he doubted she would be able to resist a peek, he decided he could fool himself into believing she was playing ball long enough to get through this...so long as he didn't look at her. He shed what remained of his clothing, finished up quickly since it was so damned cold, pulled on the fresh items, and straightened himself out until he felt comfortable again.

She turned around the moment he hoisted up his trousers, a coincidence that suggested she'd not been entirely true to her word.

'Well, now that's done, I think we should have some breakfast, don't you, John?' she trilled, marching him back towards the house. 'I take it you will be eating this time?'

Her hand landed on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, her meaning clear. Though his stomach somersaulted at the mere thought of food, he figured he'd better at least try. He had the feeling two poisonings in four days was just about as much as any man could take.

oooOOOooo

'We should start walking.'

Teyla had only just begun to rouse, but Ronon had been musing about this for over an hour now, and it was the only way he could think of to help Sheppard. Teyla blinked, apparently having difficulty trying to work out exactly what he meant. 'Back to the Stargate? But if we are right and we are hundreds of miles from it, the distance will take us many days to cover, especially with your injury.'

'I wasn't talking about heading back for the 'gate. We need to track that vehicle.'

Teyla stared back at him as if wondering if her tired brain was scrambling his words. 'Track the vehicle? But we have no idea how far she has driven.'

'Exactly, she might be at the next stop off point on the route –'

'Which will still take us days to reach on foot considering you are injured.'

Ronon felt his ire building. He was a man of action. He wasn't used to sitting back and letting others do the work for him. He felt the need to go after Sarayah personally, to snatch his friend from her clutches and teach her a lesson she wouldn't forget in a hurry. He didn't want to listen to Teyla's cool rationalising and logic. What he needed to do was pound some heads.

He stormed from the twin bedroom in which they had spent the night out into the main room, where he slung a chair away from the table and dropped heavily onto it, pouring himself some water.

'I understand your need to do something, Ronon. I, too, feel the desire to rectify this problem.'

'Sheppard's only in the mess he's in now because we allowed ourselves to get caught.'

Teyla pulled out another chair and sat down with him. 'That may be true, but I'm still not sure how walking back into her hands will help him. We would simply be giving her more ammunition to use against him. '

'She wouldn't be expecting it. _We_ could take _her_ by surprise this time.'

'If that is even possible. I suspect Sarayah is not going to be easy to sneak up upon. She knows every trick there is.'

That much was true; he'd found that out the hard way. Ronon shook his head sadly, feeling more than ever that he had failed his friend. 'I didn't really believe Sheppard when he said Sarayah had taken you.'

Teyla gave him a puzzled frown. 'Then, what did you think had happened.'

'I thought that weird guy, Frah Lisso, had something to do with it.'

She raised her eyebrows and nodded. 'I can understand that. He did seem...a little strange.'

'But Sheppard knew the truth and I didn't trust his instincts. And I didn't take the threat from Sarayah seriously because I thought I was better than her.'

'As good at what we excel in as we imagine ourselves to be, there is always the chance we will meet someone more skilled,' Teyla said wistfully. 'Sarayah is an unusual woman, in more ways than one. But her strength and skills as a warrior cannot be denied.'

'She was hiding in the trees out where we were searching for you. Sheppard tried to warn us, but she took him down. Then I was so busy trying to get to him, I never heard her above me. She shot me with that damn sonic weapon Sheppard told us about. Couldn't figure out what was going on until she'd already dragged me to the back of the truck and I was halfway up some kind of ramp. When I tried to fight back, she shot me again, then I didn't wake up again until I was here.'

'I believe she did the same thing to me,' Teyla nodded. 'Although I didn't begin to rouse fully until I was already in the truck and she injected me with something I believe was sedative. I know I quickly succumbed again. '

'Huh. Where'd she get that?'

'I assume she got it from Dr Keller's medical kit. We already know she was able to access our quarters to steal John's wristband. I imagine she simply did it again to see what she could find of more use.'

Ronon nodded. That explained why she had Sheppard's clothes, and why he'd taken so long to wake after the second shot. Then he thought of Teyla's child.

'So, how's the kid doing?'

Teyla began stroking her stomach and smiled. 'I was worried for him. I feared the pulse and the drugs would have done him harm, but his movements are as lively as ever. Hopefully he is fine.'

'He's strong, like his mother,' Ronon grinned supportively, hoping she was right. If she wasn't, Sarayah would pay for it big time.

'As for your plan,' Teyla said, bringing their conversation back on course, 'I fear the only real surprise would be if we could make it to wherever she is holding him. We have no idea where she went.'

'That truck has to leave tracks, and I doubt she'll have bothered to cover them since she thinks we're still tied up in the barn. But if we do this we have to move now in case the weather changes and washes them away.'

Teyla held his fierce gaze, one of the few people who could when he was at his most intimidating. Almost everyone but Teyla and Sheppard cowered in his huge presence, and that was why he admired them both so much. They were strong, they were sure of their own convictions, so they deserved his respect.

'C'mon, Teyla. We owe him this much,' he urged, hoping it was enough to sway her.

He saw her resolve weaken and knew she was considering his suggestion. 'Perhaps it _is _time to take the fight to her.'

'You know it makes sense,' he grinned, applying a little pressure so she would make the right choice.

Teyla poured herself a drink of water now, sipping it calmly while she considered his words. Teyla was nothing if not measured in all her actions; this need to take time before coming to a decision was frustrating, but not unexpected. He waited as patiently as he could, fingers drumming the tabletop.

'Do you truly think you are strong enough to do this?' she eventually asked.

'I've fought the Wraith with worse injuries,' he insisted, feeling a buzz of excitement in his guts.

'You realise you will have to do the majority of the fighting if we confront her? I will do what I can, but –'

'The baby comes first. I understand. But with you doing what you can and Sheppard helping, I'm pretty sure we can overpower her.'

Teyla fell silent again, giving it more thought. She even closed her eyes as if meditating on the matter. Though Ronon wanted to grab her and shake her out of it, he knew that would do his cause little good, so, biting back his natural urge to go run right after the crazy woman, he waited for Teyla to think it through.

'We must arm ourselves,' she suddenly announced. 'We certainly cannot go after her empty handed.'

'Don't suppose you found any weapons during your search for supplies last night?' he quipped, grinning his joy at her agreement.

She smiled, shaking her head. 'No. I believe the Frahs were in earnest when they said no guns were allowed on Guedeseo. But there are many other things we can use – if we have the strength and capacity to carry them along with the other supplies we will need.'

'I can carry whatever we need,' he assured her, leaping up from his seat and skilfully masking his wince as he pulled on his injured waistline.

'All right, but we must tell Colonel Carter of our plans. If she agrees, we'll set out as soon as possible.'

'Hey, she's not here. Doesn't matter if she agrees or not...she can't stop us,' he told her, earning a disapproving look for his trouble.

'That might be so, but I would still prefer to have her approval,' Teyla chided, but he didn't mind. Teyla was onside now, and she had the most amazing powers of persuasion. He had no doubt she would talk Carter round and they would soon be on their way.

**A/N: Ick! Sarayah's getting more hands on, but Ronon and Teyla want to come to his rescue. Will they get there before things get worse for the colonel? Read on to find out, and keep those reviews coming. :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 **

'How's that?' McKay asked, craning his neck up from under the control panel he was working on.

'Looking good,' Sam told him, shortly before the power cut out and died again, taking the screen of data she'd been attempting to translate with it. She dropped her head into her hands. Her nerves were shot after last night's accident with the jumper, and more complications were the last thing they needed.

'This is impossible! The circuits must have been exposed to the elements and corroded or something,' McKay scowled. 'Either that or the luddites down in the village have been tempering with things they shouldn't have.'

'Perhaps, but I'm sure we'll find some way of re-routing things to get it up and running again, Rodney. It's just going to take...perseverance,' she told him for what felt like at least the fiftieth time.

'I'm sorry, but perseverance requires a little more patience and concentration than I am capable of right now!' he snapped, hitting his head as he tried to sit up. 'Oh great, and now I have another concussion to add to my problems. I'm really going to figure this out now when I have a crushing headache.'

Carter squatted down and grabbed him by the shoulders. 'Rodney. I understand that you're worried for your friends, I really do, but you cannot have this breakdown right now. I need you – they need you – to stay focused on this problem so we can do something to help them.'

'Do what exactly? Even if we get the 'gate up and running we still can't bring a jumper through because we can't guarantee that damned anomaly won't just obliterate it.'

Those words struck a very painful chord since she'd been the one to request a jumper, and to give the order to Lieutenant Stevens to dial Atlantis. They hadn't gathered enough evidence yet to prove which of those decisions has caused the problem, but either way, it was her responsibility that two personnel had lost their lives and others had been injured. 'Well, maybe we can call on someone we know to supply another kind of vehicle – we know it doesn't go after trucks,' she suggested, thinking off-the-cuff.

'Oh, like who, Sam? We don't exactly have that many friends in Pegasus, and most of the people we know are living are pre industrial societies. No offence, but I don't think this Galaxy's equivalent of a mule and cart is gonna cut it against whatever Sarayah has out there.'

Rubbing her tired eyes, Sam repressed the sigh trying to burst from her lungs. 'I take your point, Rodney. But this isn't helping. We need this gate operational so we can get our people off this planet...all of them...preferably with Sarayah in tow so we can throw her in a cell where she can't do any more damage. Now, we can wait the five days it'll take for the Daedalus to get here and hope that when it approaches the planet's orbit that anomaly doesn't do what it apparently did to the last Wraith vessel to pass by here, or we can keep our minds on the job and try to come up with something more productive. So, which is it to be?'

Teyla's voice interrupted them at that moment, giving Rodney some time to think through his options.

'_Colonel Carter, this is Teyla. Please respond.'_

'Teyla, this is Carter. How are you both doing this morning?'

'_I am well, and Ronon is much improved.'_

'That's good to hear,' Sam said, smiling at the sound of Teyla's positive attitude in comparison to the almost incessant whining Rodney had subjected her to since they'd left the village early yesterday morning.

'_Ronon and I have...decided to leave the village and see what clues we can find about the direction Sarayah may have headed in with the colonel.'_

That slight hesitation in her sentence told Carter they weren't only prepared to look for clues. 'Okay. Good idea. And what do you plan to do if you pick up the trail?'

'_Her tracks show she is continuing northwards. If she did not take him too far along the migration route, we are in the best position to make an attempt to take him back from her.'_

'What? That's the craziest thing I ever heard!' Rodney sputtered, forcing his way into the conversation. 'What the hell are a pregnant woman and a Satedan with a hole in him gonna do against that witch?'

'_It's a scratch,'_ Ronon told him, momentarily commandeering the radio. _'It won't slow me down.'_

'Do you have any weapons?' Carter asked. 'I'm not comfortable with you going after her unarmed.'

'_We have knives and axes from the village's domestic supplies. I am certain they will serve adequately,'_ Teyla assured her.

'Against Sarayah's cache of P-90s, 9-mils, oh, and let's not forget the sonic pulse gun and the sedatives – and that's just the stuff we know she has in her arsenal. No, I see no reason why that should blow up in your faces!' Rodney huffed, his voice angry, but his face betraying the real fear driving his sarcasm.

Teyla's voice took on its familiar strained patience when dealing with one of Rodney's outbursts. _'We understand the risks, but as we are the people closest in location to him, and we cannot bring through a jumper to reach him, we feel compelled to at least attempt a rescue.'_

'Sheppard wouldn't want you to put yourselves in unnecessary risk,' Carter told them, but she knew what their answer would be before Teyla gave it.

'_We feel this is necessary, and we are willing to try.'_

It didn't seem like a good idea to Sam, but right now, Teyla and Ronon were the only possible hope Sheppard had of rescue. She felt obliged to give them the green light...with conditions. 'Okay, I can't say I'm completely happy with this plan, but in the absence of anything better I'm going to leave the final choice with you. But, if at any point either of you feels unable to see it through, I want you to abort. Is that understood?'

'_Perfectly,' _Teyla told her._ 'We will stay in regular contact.'_

'Make sure you do. Carter out.'

Rodney stared at her in utter disbelief, but she didn't have time to explain herself to him. 'C'mon, Rodney. We're close to getting this thing up and running. Let's get back to it.'

With a shake of his head, McKay slipped back under the control panel, muttering to himself as he worked. Sam caught the odd word, such as 'unbelievable' and 'idiotic', but chose not to ask him to elaborate on them. She didn't have time for his pessimism and melodrama right now. Having barely slept after last night's disaster, her head was already pounding and with a full day's work ahead of her, she was more interested in keeping the peace rather than tackling him on his attitude today.

Suddenly, the panel she was leaning on sprang into life, and this time stayed that way. 'That's it, Rodney! Don't touch anything else!'

The scientist pulled his hands away and slid out from beneath the controls with them still held well clear. Taking a look at the data now scrolling across the screens, he managed a tentative smile. 'Well, what d'you know? Of course, I never doubted I could get it running really.'

'Of course not,' she smirked. And she would let him have that shot, too, because right now she had far bigger things on her mind. This might prove the breakthrough they were looking for, so she wasn't about to waste any time on castigations, no matter how much he deserved one.

oooOOOooo

It was a good thing the temperature was so much cooler there Sheppard decided as he tipped the last bucket full of water into the storage butt and slumped to the ground beside it. Heat would have made the task impossible, not that it hadn't felt impossible anyway, with only one good arm to carry the heavy buckets, and his ankles tethered in a way that made taking normal strides unfeasible. There was enough slack between his ankles to take short steps only so when he'd forgotten his limits a few times, and the ropes and fatigue had tripped him, the water had gone everywhere, inevitably making even more work for him. Which had probably been the idea. Thankfully, Sarayah hadn't expected him to do everything, and had at least helped him to tip the buckets into the butt. Now, unlike him, she was still on her feet and apparently full of beans.

'Yes, good idea. Rest for a moment and then we'll move onto the next chore.'

He leaned back against the wall of the building the butt stood beside, a cold sweat breaking out all over him. Chores? Like he was trapped in a warped episode of Little House on the Prairie. He rubbed at his sore right wrist, where the ropes of his bonds had again rubbed up thick welts. She wasn't taking any chances with him today. She'd bound them, too, with no more than a foot of rope to separate his wrists. If he had the strength to try to run, which he didn't, he wouldn't get far the way she'd restrained him. Of course, if he had the strength he could use those twelve inches of rope between his wrists to strangle her, and then he wouldn't need to run.

Life here was all becoming a little too reminiscent of his time on Medulsa for his liking. He was no one's slave, and this good behaviour would only last as long as his residual weakness from the poisoning sapped his ability to formulate an effective escape plan. He needed to get the truck, that much was obvious, and then he could head back to the stop-off where they'd left Ronon and Teyla behind. Not knowing how they were was eating at him more than his own problems, and the need to do something to help was pressing on him with a growing insistence.

Smiling in an oddly friendly way, Sarayah sat down beside him now, her shoulder pressed to his. He shuffled slightly to break the contact, and surprisingly she didn't follow in his direction.

'How long do you think you can keep this up?' he asked, making the smile evaporate from her face in an instant. 'You're gonna have to hand me back eventually, so why not save yourself a whole lot of trouble and do it now?'

She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, clearly feeling the cold now they'd stopped moving. 'I can keep this up as long as necessary, John. Now, please don't ruin the pleasant morning we've shared with your customary arrogance.'

The words pot, kettle and black popped into his mind, but figuring the saying would be unknown to her, he kept them to himself. 'And when the chores are done and this place is more habitable, what then? We pick the best house, spruce it up, plant a few flowers, put up a picket fence...who knows, maybe even start a family?'

Her huff of disgust told him exactly what she thought of that part of his plan.

'So, no kids, huh?' That had to be a good thing. At least she wouldn't be spreading her faulty genes anywhere else in the Pegasus Galaxy.

'They are nothing but parasites, sapping your energies and attentions.'

'To be honest, I didn't see you as the maternal type,' he agreed.

'I was pregnant once.'

That shut him up. He watched her face as she relived the memory, her lip curling at the mere thought. Some people really weren't meant for motherhood.

'I carried it unwillingly until it demanded to be born, then I pushed it out and wrung his puny neck with my own hands.'

Okay, that was disturbing, and in total contrast to the woman she'd left behind on the migration route to watch Ronon die. If Sarayah could do that to her own kid, no wonder she felt no compunction about hurting him. 'A boy?' he coaxed, trying to drag out a little more information from her. 'That must have been...disappointing.'

Her eyes flashed with anger. 'Very,' she told him. 'Now, enough talk. We should get back to work. There's wood to cut to size for the fireplace before nightfall if we wish to stay warm tonight.'

Feeling dizzy when he attempted to stand, Sheppard tried to plead a few more minutes of rest from her. 'I'm not sure I'm ready to start just yet. Maybe we should wait a little longer?'

'And yet you have enough breath to make your incessant conversation,' she snapped, suddenly grabbing hold of his shirtfront and hauling him up to slam him back against the wall, where she pinned him with the full weight of her body . Though she moved so quickly he didn't see her draw it, the pressure of a blade now pressed to his throat hard enough to cut a few upper layers of skin, setting free a trickle of warm blood to run down his neck.

So the baby was a raw nerve, because now she was losing her temper for no reason. He'd hardly been Mr Talkative for most of the morning, so it had to be the subject rather than the amount of talk that bothered her so much. But he refused to let her think she had him scared. Even though she was teetering on the edge of violence, he pushed her, certain she wouldn't carry out the implied threat. 'So, you gonna use that thing or what?' he challenged.

Her eyes, so dark and soulless, burned into his, her body rigid and poised to take action. The pressure increased just a little before he saw a change in her expression, one he really didn't want to see. She snatched the blade back then pushed the tip of her knife up under his chin, grasping the back of his head and forcing it forward until the point was digging into his skin again, just another cut to add to his growing collection. She'd brought his face close to hers and he tried to pull back, too unsteady on his feet to put up an effective struggle. 'We're finished talking,' she breathed, stretching up for another kiss, this one a little more lingering. He froze, his mouth fixed under hers to show he had no intention of reciprocating even when she pushed the blade up just a fraction harder, relief flooding through him when she eventually pulled back without taking it any further.

'I'll take that as a "no" then,' he muttered, as she let him go and he felt his legs turn to rubber without the support her body pressed to his had given him.

'Back to work,' she ordered, swiping the knife toward him and slicing the ropes between his wrists. For a second, he'd thought she was about to disembowel him, and the momentary panic and subsequent reprieve left his head spinning even more.

He felt suddenly nauseous and weak as hell, but he didn't want her to know that. If she wanted him to cut wood, he'd cut wood. If she wanted him to scrub floors, he'd do that, too. The only thing he wouldn't do was cave in front of her, not while he had any say in the matter.

'Over there.' Sarayah pointed off toward a lean-to a couple of buildings away, where a pile of huge branches and sections of tree trunks waited for his attention.

He felt his whole body sag at the sight of it, but he carried on, his head woolly and the ground now feeling spongy beneath his feet. If he was lucky, she'd let him off after cutting enough for tonight. Other than this minor glitch, she'd been uncharacteristically fair so far today...although the wash-down had been more embarrassing than necessary. Still, since she was being a nice little psycho, he chose to be optimistic.

That idea lasted until he reached the wood-stack and took hold of the axe with his one good arm, feeling the weight of it and realising it was going to take more energy than he suspected he had left in him to wield the damn thing, especially since he wasn't exactly experienced at the whole one-armed chopping business. Still, determined to save face, he selected a log and put it in position, swung the axe back over his shoulder...then promptly passed out before striking a single blow.

'_Hey, sleepy. Are you going to wake up at all today, or am I just going to have to climb in there and kick you out of bed?'_

_John cracked open his eyes to find Nancy's smiling face looming over him. 'Hmmm, now let me think...'_

_He grabbed her and pulled her into a lingering kiss that would leave her with little doubt where he wanted her to be. _

'_Come on, John. I have to be in work in an hour and I haven't done my hair, my makeup...'_

'_Call in sick,' he suggested, planting a kiss on her. For a moment, she seemed to melt in his arms. Then she pulled back._

'_And will you do the same next time someone calls for you in the middle of the night?'_

_Why did all his attempts at affection seem to end up in arguments these days? He decided not to answer her question for fear of incriminating himself. 'You always look perfect anyway. I don't know what you're worried about.'_

'_Very smooth, John, but I know evasion when I hear it.'_

'_Come on, Nancy. Don't be like this...'_

'_Like what? Jealous of the attention you lavish on your job rather than giving it to me. Well, I'm sorry, but unlike you, I can't just turn my emotions on and off like a tap.'_

_Her words stung more than if she'd physically struck him. 'That's not true. I don't –'_

'_Yes, you do. We both know if that phone rang now and I told you I would be gone when you got back, you would still run along like some obedient little lapdog.'_

'_It's my job, Nancy. I can't refuse –'_

'_And this is my job, John. A job that you just won't take seriously.'_

_He ran a hand back through his hair, knowing this argument was now inevitable. 'Well, it's not exactly life and death –'_

'_No, not directly. I don't run around with a gun choosing who's right and wrong – who lives and who dies – but what I do is still important.'_

'_Look, I'm not trying to belittle what you do —'_

'_Yes you are, because you're the almighty John Sheppard, purveyor of justice, beacon of hope, saviour of the universe or whatever the hell is going on inside that head of yours these days. You're never wrong, are you? You can never see things from my point of view.'_

_He lay there, propped up on his elbows, slack mouthed and all out of fight. Was that really how Nancy saw him...how other people saw him? 'That's not true –' he said, his voice little more than a whisper of denial._

'_Yes it is,' she sighed, smiling almost sadly as she reached out and stroked his cheek. 'I've already lost your to them, haven't I? I just wonder if there's anything left for me at all...'_

The eyes that met his this time when he woke weren't the beautiful soft brown orbs he'd yearned to see again for the past few years, but the hard, dark eyes of his captor, staring intently at him as she dabbed his warm cheeks with her cooling cloth.

'Oh, good. I was hoping it would be you,' he croaked, twitching his head away from her touch.

She seemed indifferent to his rejection, dropping the cloth into a bowl of water on the floor beside the bed, before shifting a little closer on the bed. 'Why didn't you tell me how sick you felt?' she asked calmly, drying her hands on the shirt she still wore.

'Because I didn't realise how sick I _did _feel.'

She looked doubtful, pursing her lips. 'So, it wasn't yet another example of your foolish defiance?'

'Well, that may have played a part,' he conceded. 'But that whole passing-out thing crept up on me kind of unexpectedly.'

'I should have realised you would not be able to maintain the pace I asked of you in your current condition.'

'Yeah, maybe you should have,' he sneered, staring up at the ceiling.

Her eyes narrowed, and she caught hold of his face to force him to turn back towards her. 'And you should not have been so stubborn.'

'Okay. I get the idea. This is my fault. Everything bad that happens is my fault.'

She leaned in over him, her face now a little too close for comfort. 'And when you say those words as if you mean them, then I'll know my work is done.'

Disturbingly, it seemed she was in complete earnest as she said it. Sheppard felt like telling her that would happen over his cold, dead body, but figured much as he doubted she would kill him, she might still view it as an invitation to take him as close as possible.

'I have made some broth for you,' she announced, and yes, now she'd told him, he could actually smell it. Funny how he didn't notice much else when she was around.

She picked up the bowl, and tested the contents for him. He watched her, again wondering why she was being so nice. This side of her was actually harder to deal with that the version that enjoyed beating the crap out of him. At least with that one he knew what was coming. 'If my memory serves, you, me and broth tend to end up as a pretty painful combination.'

All the same, she ladled a spoonful into his mouth, careful not to spill any. 'Do you remember the promise I made to you on Medulsa when you were first under my supervision?'

He cast his mind back, not sure what exactly she was referring to. 'Well, I remember several threats and a couple of sound beatings...'

'I told you if you pleased me, I could make life easier for you.'

Yes, he remembered that very well, and her meaning had been just as clear back then. 'Oh yeah. That does kinda ring a bell...'

She gave him more broth, carefully, almost tenderly. Creepy as it was, he figured he wouldn't have found it quite so disconcerting were both his wrists not tied to the bed again.

'There is no reason that deal cannot still stand,' she told him, setting down the bowl on the nightstand, then wringing out the cloth she'd earlier abandoned and carefully wiping his face down with it. Her motions were delicate, as if she feared hurting him...or perhaps as if she thought gentleness might sway the way he responded to her.

'Yeah...well...to be frank, I'm just not sure I can _please you_ in quite the way you need me to,' he replied, turning away from her touches.

He expected her to get mad, hit him or at least yell, but she didn't. Instead, she picked up the bowl of broth again and continued to feed him steadily, determined that he take in enough nourishment to build his strength. As she concentrated on her task he noticed her face was devoid of any kind of antagonism and he felt no malice from her. He didn't think he'd ever seen her this...normal.

'There are many ways to please me, John,' she replied. 'Most of them do not involve the intimacy you seem to think I require. Obedience and respect would go a long way to repair the wrongs you have done me.'

He squinted at her, suspicious of this turn in attitude. 'That's not the impression you've given before.'

She shrugged, still concentrating on feeding him without wasting a drop. 'I have certain needs, just as any woman does, and I have become accustomed to taking what I want because that was the only way to get it.'

'And you think that's an excuse?'

Her eyes lifted up to his now, a flicker of amusement dancing there. 'Are you judging me, John? Only the Divine One is allowed to pass judgement on Guedeseo.'

'And what would you call the way you're treating me here?'

'I've told you. This is a le –'

'A lesson in humility – yeah, I got that. But doesn't that mean you've judged me unfit to continue living the way I have been?'

She titled her head a little as she considered his standpoint, nodding slightly. 'I suppose I can understand why you would see it that way.'

'What, you mean the way it actually is?'

Her gaze hardened, her eyes black as night and drilling into him. His throat dried up, as did his desire to talk.

She set down the bowl and hitched her knee up onto the bed so she could face him straight on. 'I know why you feel the need to be antagonistic, John, I really do. You still believe your friends will come for you and you don't want them to find out you were...co-operating with the enemy.'

'They know I would never do that –'

'Don't you think they would have tracked you down by now if there was any way they could? It's been over a day since your were last seen by them. Plenty of time to bring in one of those ships of yours.'

She was right, of course, and the fact they hadn't worried him. But he did understand the reasons why. Carter had made the right call. Sarayah was just trying to add abandonment issues to all his other doubts. They would come for him once it was safe to do so. They _would_ come.

'You know, you must have a real inferiority complex to feel like you have to drag people down this way,' he drawled, deciding to give her something to think about, too.

Oddly, she suddenly asked, 'Do you think life is easy for people like me, John?'

He bit back the first answer that tried to leave his lips and gave a more measured response. 'Maybe not so much now...' he admitted.

'No, even on Medulsa it was a struggle. We had rules and laws to uphold, but so many people failed in their duties that it fell upon me to carry the brunt of the work.'

Was she really going to do this? Was she actually going to unburden herself about how awful her life had been to a former prisoner she'd beat senseless and tried to...No, he didn't want to finish that thought, not lying flat out and tethered on a bed with her sitting right beside him.

'I was very young when I was first asked to work with the prisoners, but even then I could see standards were not being upheld. Women there were too lenient; they let men make excuses for not working hard, and allowed them to feign illness to get out of their duties. It was me and me alone who dragged that prison up to what it should be, who made the men understand their position in Medulsan society and what was expected of them. It was hard, sometimes almost too hard. So yes, I availed myself of the services of men from time to time. I deserved some pleasures after working so hard to stop our society's standards from slipping.'

Yeah, sure, because it was all about standards – nothing to do with needing to hurt and control people. 'My heart bleeds for you,' he growled, his sense of indignation igniting. How could she think any of what she'd just told him justified her behaviour? He didn't even believe her.

Her expression darkened, but she didn't lash out, again surprising him. So this really worked, huh. Because he'd done as she'd asked this morning...more or less...she was holding back.

As if sensing her efforts to deceive were wasted on him, Sarayah changed the subject completely. 'Well, John, that wood won't cut itself, so now you've had your rest you should get back to it before the sun goes down and it gets too cold to work outside.'

She began untying his wrists, then stepped back to let him stand. He struggled up, steadying himself on the bedstead, but thankfully finding his legs willing to take on the job of holding him up after all. This was turning into a very strange and revealing day. He'd gained some insight into his unusual captor, not that any of it reassured him. In fact, it only went to prove one thing – she was just as unpredictable as he'd feared her to be.

**A/N: So Ronon and Teyla are on the way, Carter and McKay may be making progress, and Sheppard is still in jeopardy. Can they get him back before Sarayah loses what little self-control she is currently practicing? You'll have to wait and see. Thanks to all those reading and reviewing. I'm glad the story is keeping you gripped. :D**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 **

Perched on the naquadah generator case, Rodney continued to read through the translation program, gleaning what he could from the complex formulas and various amounts of conjecture listing on his laptop screen. The Ancients were super-advanced as a race, but there was little in their science he couldn't get his head around eventually. However, nothing he had read thus far suggested anything wrong with the planet's Stargate, be it a malfunction or deliberate tampering, and the ease with which they had accessed this information meant the Ancients hadn't encoded the data here, and that in itself seemed to suggest the chances that the 'gate had been encrypted were slim to none.

The information itself was fascinating. Guedeseo, not that it had been known as that in the time of the Ancients, had been chosen as a location for this particular research post because of the potentially dangerous experiments being carried out there. The planet lay a great distance from any others in the galaxy, existing in a solar system with no other inhabited worlds. Here, the Ancients had set up a facility to experiment with and manipulate the wormholes they had been able to generate within the Stargate network. That kind of thing, if it went wrong, could be pretty catastrophic, which explained the seclusion required for the testing process.

As he scrolled down the screen, he found what he considered an interesting snippet of information. 'Well, what do you know? Apparently this planet has a natural nuclear fission reaction going on.'

Sam looked up from her computer, her interest instantly grabbed. 'Really? That's interesting. Wonder if that has anything to do with the anomaly..' She set her own machine aside on the floor where she'd been sitting and joined Rodney in front of his screen to read his information. 'This says the natural reactor is lying several hundred feet beneath this facility,' she read out. 'Well, that can't be just a coincidence. That has to be the reason why they built it here.'

'Obviously,' Rodney agreed, paging down faster than Sam was able to read. She huffed and stood back, folding her arms over her chest in annoyance, but Rodney continued on regardless. 'It says here that the Ancients were looking to harness this kind of natural power to generate Stargates...but why would they do that when they have a perfectly adequate way of powering the 'gates anyway? Natural fission is relatively low-powered and unpredictable at best...not exactly a first choice as a power source.'

'Well, maybe if we read the data more thoroughly –'

Rodney waved Sam into silence as he trailed a finger down the screen. 'They were trying to power the Stargate using the natural reactor. They created some kind of device that caused the natural reaction to build, agitating and splitting more atoms and forcing out more energy, which they managed to contain and channel. These Ancients were pretty smart!'

'You don't say...'

He looked up, locking eyes with Sam. 'Hey, that must be why the normal power system isn't working. They've set the 'gate up to work from an alternative power source.'

'Good work, Rodney,' Sam smiled, slapping him on the back in congratulations. 'Now all we have to do it disable the link between this facility and the 'gate and things should fall into place.'

'Should do.'

Rodney started work on locating those links, happier than he had been in days. Finally they had some answers he could actually work with. Rodney McKay was back.

oooOOOooo

That evening, with the wood cut and a fire burning in the brick fireplace, Sheppard struggled to stay awake long enough to eat his meal, not that he had much of an appetite anyway. He fought to stay conscious, painfully aware of the way Sarayah was greedily eyeing him from her position at the head of the table, but even though he felt certain she might try something unsavoury if he let his guard slip, the after effects of the poison added to the hours of hard labour tugged him into reluctant sleep.

Sure enough, he woke to the sensation of fingers running through his hair, and he jerked his head back to find she'd shifted her seat beside his at the table, and a lascivious gleam now burned in her dark eyes.

'You've done well today, despite your misgivings,' she purred, laying her hand on his splinted forearm. He sat back and pulled his arm free, sure that Sarayah and an already injured limb were a very bad mixture when she was in this mood. She ignored the movement and continued. 'You've certainly earned your rest tonight.'

'And yet you saw fit to wake me up,' he grumbled, disgruntled and disorientated, and desperate for her to get out of his personal space.

The crackling fire cast an orange glow onto the room, bathing her olive skin an even warmer shade of brown. And, if he wasn't mistaken as he glared at her, there were a few less buttons fastened on that shirt than there had been earlier. _Oh,_ c_rap! _

'I thought you might be more comfortable in bed.'

Her words were loaded with insinuation. So much for there being other ways to please her. He knew exactly what she wanted – she wasn't particularly hiding it anymore. She might have been trying to convince herself that this was all some kind of moral crusade to save the Pegasus Galaxy from the scourge of his self-righteousness, and she'd done a pretty convincing act all day, keeping it professional and distant, but when it came down to it, she still wanted him in the most basic, carnal way possible. He swallowed down the lump of anxiety now blocking his throat. 'You know what? I'm so tired I could sleep anywhere right now. So, tie me to the table or whatever you have to do to convince yourself I'm not gonna run away and I'm good.'

Her eyebrow twitched as her eyes roamed over him again. 'Tie you to the table...that's not such a bad idea.'

Disgusted, he rolled his eyes. 'That's not what I meant.'

'Then I should just take you to the bedroom and tie you up there where I can keep an eye on you in comfort.'

'But_ I_ wouldn't be comfortable with that.'

The playfulness left her expression, her customary severity sharpening her features in his blurry focus. Great, now she was mad with him, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

'Were you imagining that was a suggestion?'

He chewed his lip, than forced himself to stop. It was a nervous habit, but not one he wanted her to become aware of. 'Uh, hoping so, yeah,' he replied, adopting a less confrontational attitude.

'And now you know it isn't?'

This was about to turn nasty, he could feel it. He leaned back away from her as far as his seat would allow. 'I was under the impression this kind of thing was low on the agenda right now...I mean...shouldn't we be saving our energy for my lessons? There are still lots of chores to do,' he fudged, trying to buy himself time, though time for what he didn't know. Did he honestly think his friends were going to pop up out of nowhere and save the day again? No, he had a feeling his luck on that front had just about run out.

'I only asked you to lie beside me. I have never suggested anything else.'

'Yeah, well, you have a way of twisting things when it comes to what you say and what you mean, and I think we both know you wouldn't leave it at that.'

'This is all part of your learning process, John. Come lie beside me and...let me teach you what you need to know.'

She leaned toward him and stroked the back of her finger down his neck, sending a shudder rippling through him. Her eyes literally smouldered as she gazed at him, bringing her face in closer...

He pulled back out of reach, just before her grip on the back of his neck could tighten. 'I. Don't. Want. This.' There. It was said. He couldn't make it any clearer.

She stood so sharply the chair beneath her fell back, the sound of it hitting the floor echoing out in the virtual silence. 'Don't spoil things, John. Today, I actually believed you were learning your place. Now, it seems we are right back where we began.'

Sheppard tried his best to stay calm, coolly regarding her from his seat at the table. This was not the time to lose his head. This was a time for damage limitation. 'Sarayah...you have to understand that...for me...this kind of thing isn't just something I can do on command –'

Of course, she didn't actually care about any of this stuff, but if he kept talking maybe he could bore her to sleep.

She leaned on the back of his chair, bearing in on him as her hand slipped to the hilt of the gun tucked in her belt. 'Then consider it another part of your tutelage to learn how.'

For a second or two he contemplated lunging for the weapon, keeping her talking while he tried to get the timing right. 'No, I need you to consider whether what you are forcing me to agree to is ethical in any way.'

'It is in accordance with the ethics by which I lived the majority of my life,' she replied, pulling the gun now herself. Bang went that plan. 'Of course, I suppose that amounts to nothing in your mind, John. Only _your _ethics, and _your _standards should be applied in any given situation, isn't that true?'

He got the distinct impression Sarayah and Nancy would get on real well if they ever, due to some freak anomaly in the space-time continuum, got together to talk about him; they both thought he had a holier-than-thou attitude. Maybe he did. The military was still intrinsically sexist as an organisation, though he'd tried his best not to fall into that pattern. Did he value himself more highly than Sarayah or Nancy? When he got the chance, he would have to give his attitudes some serious thought, but right now he had bigger fish to fry.

'Not always true, no,' he said in his defence. 'But I happen to be right on this.'

'You assume this would be an unpleasant experience,' she charged, folding her arms across her chest. 'It doesn't have to be...not if you let go of this futile animosity.'

He could feel her anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She was taking this as a personal insult, but it wasn't intended to be. Any woman acting this way would meet with the same reaction. She had to know this kind of behaviour was unacceptable in any normal society. Could she really not understand that?

'Let me ask you this,' he piped up. 'If our roles were reversed, and you were a captive and I demanded you slept with me, how would you feel?'

Her eyes slid over the full length of his body, rising back up to meet his. 'I could be persuaded.'

This was impossible. Her infatuation with the idea of conquering him in every possible way meant she would not see reason, not matter how blatant he made it. 'I'm not sure you're really putting yourself completely in my shoes here...' He stood now, sucking in a deep if slightly unsteady breath, and pulling himself up straight. 'Ok, I'm gonna be blunt. There is no way in hell I am going to agree to this, so you might as well just kick the crap out of me like you know you're spoiling to, and then we can call it a night.'

'So, you won't sleep beside me?' she clarified.

'Not while I have the breath in my body to say no,' he replied, defiantly raising his chin.

She gave no response to that, other than shouldering past him as if to storm from the room. But he should have known she wouldn't just leave it at that. He caught the slightest hint of a whistle as something solid cut through air behind him before the poker she'd grabbed up from the fireside struck him across the back of his shoulders and sent him slamming against the table, and then a second shot left him sliding down to the floor. The hissing, spitting harpy was on his back before he knew what had happened, cracking his head on the boards to stun him, which it did very effectively.

Then she was gone again.

Sheppard rolled onto his back holding his forehead, afraid it might actually fall apart if he let go. He needed to move...needed to get out before she came back with drugs. That thought forced him over onto his hands and knees, and then gracelessly up onto his unsteady legs. Swaying toward the door, he'd almost made it when Sarayah launched at him from nowhere again, kicking his legs out from under him and pinning his arms behind his back. The strain on his already fractured limb was unbearable, so he stopped struggling, sure it would snap clean through if he continued to fight.

'If you won't sleep beside me, you won't sleep at all,' she hissed as she cuffed him, then dragged him backwards across the floor. She dropped him long enough to position a chair close to one of the props supporting the roof trusses, then heaved him onto it, manoeuvring him so his arms were wrapped around the ladder-back, before tying his ankles to the chair legs.

'You should have made better choices, John,' she said, the evenness of her voice belying her brooding aggression. 'And you will learn to in time – if you survive long enough. I don't enjoy this any more than you do, but you have to be taught a lesson to ensure you don't wreck anyone else's life.'

'I didn't wreck your life – you did,' he said, deciding to leave his argument at that when he felt her loop something that felt suspiciously like a noose around his neck. Memories of his horrific nightmare came rushing in, making his terror harder to control. 'What are you doing?'

'Giving you a good reason to stay awake.'

He couldn't see what she was doing behind him, but by the time she'd finished, the rope was sitting snugly around his neck, making him feel short of breath even though his breathing was not yet restricted by it. The threat alone was enough to close his airways with dread.

Satisfied with her work, she paced around to stand in front of him. 'If you move your head too much, or if your head drops forward, the knot will tighten and you will choke. And since I now plan to go to bed and get some rest, I suggest you remain vigilant.' A smirk spread across her face as beads of panicked sweat budded on his forehead. 'If you stay alive until morning, I may just consider that you had a point.'

He tried to see where she went as she walked away from him, but even that small turn of his head tightened the noose just a fraction. Surely she wasn't really going to leave him alone? She didn't want him dead, he was certain of that...unless she'd was finally tired of his constant rebellion. That wasn't an altogether implausible theory.

So he had to stay awake. What could he think about that would keep his already flagging brain and aching neck from giving up on him? First things first, he needed to regulate his breathing in case even that was gradually tightening his leash. He ordered himself to be calm. Sarayah was gone, so the worst thing that could happen to him now was that he asphyxiated alone, miles from anyone he knew or cared about, leaving Ronon and Teyla undiscovered and slowly starving or bleeding to death...

_Way to calm down, John! _

He shut out all thoughts of his friends since there wasn't a damn thing he could do for them unless he made it through to the morning. Instead, he made himself list things; old football results, all the prime numbers he could remember, all the types of different aircraft he'd always dreamed of flying but would never get the chance to if he didn't keep his eyes open, and that was great...for the first hour. Then, he ran out of things to add to the list, his tired brain, and throbbing head unable to dredge up more additions. He felt dizzy and exhausted, and it was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to let his head drop to ease his aching neck.

So, he moved on to song lyrics, amusing himself by reciting some Rage Against the Machine over and over to keep his spirits up. Now, those guys really knew how to rail against authority. "Killing in the Name Of" was his favourite at that particular moment, and the final, repetitively defiant verse got stuck on a loop in his mind, though the temptation to headbang along with the main riff was almost too much to resist. Perhaps something a little less lively would be more appropriate, though that wouldn't necessarily keep him conscious...

The sudden choking sensation in his throat was his only warning that he'd drifted off, and by then it was too late. With his hands tied behind the chair, he had no way of working the rope loose, helpless now in its constricted grip. He strained against his bonds, trying desperately to pull free without worsening the ligature around his neck, but his ropes held fast. His limbs gradually weakened from lack of oxygen, any movements becoming slow and ineffectual as his vision tunnelled and blackness claimed him...

oooOOOooo

Ronon pulled the plump bird he'd been roasting out of the fire, testing the meat and finding it just about perfect. Tearing the creature's torso in half with ease, he handed some to Teyla, who smiled her thanks and ate gratefully from it, even though it was still very hot. It was a little greasy, but had a pleasant enough taste, so it would be easy to consume. Her pregnancy left her constantly hungry, and it was a relief to have food that wasn't sickly sweet after a day of eating fruit and preserves. However, what she really longed for was something more grain based, like a warm, freshly baked loaf of bread. As she fantasised about tearing into a crisp crusted loaf, and taking hot showers with scented soaps and shampoos back at Atlantis, Ronon asked her, 'How're you doin'?'

Pulled from her reverie, she gave him her best smile. 'I am well, a little tired, but other than that I have no complaints. And you?'

'Side's a little stiff, but nothing I can't handle.'

That was a relief to hear. Since freeing him and dressing his would, Ronon had made steady progress, and now had a much healthier colour in his cheeks, even though she knew he was still feeling his injury from the way he grimaced when he moved too quickly. He'd kept up an impressively steady pace during their trek, though she suspected it was the thought of what might be happening to Sheppard that urged him on, rather than a vast improvement in his own condition.

'How far do you think we have progressed today?' she mused, gazing up at the stars. The sky was clear and the air cool tonight, making her draw her legs in as tightly as her swollen stomach would allow and hugging them for added warmth.

'I dunno. Twenty, maybe thirty miles,' Ronon speculated. 'There's no way of knowing for sure.'

The ground was hard beneath her, making it difficult to get comfortable, especially in her condition. Her coccyx and pelvis ached from walking and her ankles had swelled a little from the exertion. She had to wonder how much use she would be in hand-to-hand combat if walking tired her out so much...although twenty to thirty miles was quite a distance, of that there could be no doubt.

'I wonder how far from John we are...' she sighed, more a rhetorical question than one that deserved an answer.

'Hard to say, but that lunatic would probably want to get him as far away from us as possible,' Ronon said quietly, his words and the truth she knew they held hanging heavy in the thick night air.

She sighed, her breath clouding in front of her face and pluming away, just like the orange smoke from the fire. 'If that is the case, there is little hope of us getting to her on foot.'

Ronon ripped a mouthful of flesh from his half of the bird's carcass, chewing it as he pondered. 'You think we should give up already?'

'No, I was not suggesting that. But realistically...we are unlikely to reach John before...before Sarayah sees through her threat to teach him a lesson.'

'Don't think like that,' Ronon growled, his mood darkening. 'Sheppard's strong. He'll hold out until we get to him.'

'But he is alone, and we know she had drugs to guarantee his compliance...' Feeling her emotions about to overtake her, she stopped speaking. Pregnancy played havoc with her self-control. She did not wish to be tearful; she was angry...outraged...and yet here she was, bordering on weeping as she often seemed to be of late.

Ronon reached over and squeezed her hand, his eyes glistening a little more than usual too in the firelight. 'Get some rest and when you're ready we'll set out again. Maybe he's just at the next migration stage point after all. We might get there by tomorrow night.'

She nodded, holding it all in, but she was afraid...afraid for John, afraid for Ronon, and afraid for her unborn child whom she had dragged into this horrendous situation. She couldn't help but fear Sarayah would choose her baby as a target when they finally met with her. She had already used his bargaining power a few times...the baby was nothing but leverage as far as Sarayah was concerned.

'Perhaps,' she replied, forcing on a smile, but in her heart she felt that even if they made it that far, it was unlikely Sarayah and their friend would be there.

**A/N: Now there's the Sarayah we know and loathe. But Sheppard's friends are still making progress in one way or another. Are they too late now? Dun dun dun...! Read on to find out...and thanks for all the comments, they make the work worthwhile. :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 **

Cold air prickling against his skin was the first thing that registered with Sheppard's muddled brain cells. Then a sound – static, distorted voices...was that Carter? Had he fallen asleep on the job?

The sensation of coarse fabric against his body reminded him he wasn't in the field...and that the radio wasn't in his possession, and only then did the dipping of the mattress behind him become more obvious. He worked out he was lying on his side facing away from his bed companion, which was a small blessing since it meant she couldn't see he'd woken up. His injured arm throbbed steadily, and the sensation of pressure around his wrists, and his arms hanging at an awkward angle up and away from his body broke through his confusion, reminded him of his status.

Prisoner...or was it student? They both amounted to pretty much the same thing in Sarayah's mind. Whichever he was, he clearly wasn't dead. He decided to reserve judgment on how he felt about that for now.

He forced his unwilling eyelids apart, now seeing the ropes linking both his arms to just one bedpost. His shoulders ached from holding that position, that and the blows they had taken last night, and he longed to shift to alleviate the pain, but he didn't want Sarayah to know he was awake just yet.

She moved behind him, and to his horror he realised she was under the covers with him, her bare thigh stroking along his as she spooned up behind him, listening to the radio chatter.

'_Have you discovered anything at the Ancient facility that may be of help with the Stargate yet, Colonel?'_ he heard Teyla ask.

'_We think we may be onto something. It seems the Ancients were studying alternate ways to power a Stargate, so we think they blocked the usual command functions between the 'gate and the DHD. So now we just need to ...unblock them,' _Carter responded.

'_That is good news. We are about to set out on the migration route again. We are hopeful we might make it to the next stage point by nightfall. If Sarayah is there, we will alert you to our findings before engaging her.'_

He couldn't express the relief he felt in any way, but it rushed through him and made his own situation seem somehow less appalling. Obviously Teyla and Ronon had freed themselves, and if they were heading his way, Ronon's injury couldn't be as bad as he'd feared. On top of that, progress was at last being made with the 'gate problem. Perhaps an end to this torment was in sight.

He heard Sarayah laugh quietly, then felt her chin come to rest on his shoulder, her warm skin pressing against his back. Again, he tried not to react, but the realisation he wasn't the only unclothed body in that bed sent his adrenalin surging. What the hell had she been up to while he was out of it? The urge to rip his arms free and fight his way out of there threatened to overwhelm him. He might have denied it, but her touch really did make him feel tainted.

'Aren't you going to thank me for saving your life, John?' she whispered, her lips making the lightest of contact with his ear as her hand came to rest on his bruised hip.

His follicles bristled, but he wasn't stupid enough to voice his disgust as strongly as he wanted to. 'I still haven't decided if I'm all that happy about it yet,' he croaked, feeling the after effect of the noose for the first time now he had spoken.

'Well, I'm glad...and hopefully you've learned a valuable lesson.'

'Yeah, don't fall asleep with a noose around your neck...although I think I could have worked that out without the demonstration. Cutting it a bit fine, weren't you?'

'You think I haven't garrotted men before. I've had plenty of practice,' she assured him.

'What great skills-set you have,' he muttered. 'You must be real fun at parties.'

She laughed again, setting his teeth on edge, then she slipped her hand up higher, running her fingers across the bruising on his shoulders. 'I don't enjoy hurting you, John, but I am willing to do it when necessary. If you would just do as I ask without all this needless rebellion there would be no cause to harm you. When you've learned to respect other people's ways, you'll find out just how sweet I can be.' He winced as she continually trailed her fingers backwards and forwards from one shoulder blade to the other, making the tender skin all the sorer, not that the pain was what bothered him most. 'Your friends are resilient. It seems they found a way to get free from their bonds.'

'Nothing much keeps those two down,' he agreed, his alarm mounting as her fingertip now traced his spine...all the way down. He wanted to ask her to stop, but didn't dare while he had no means to defend himself. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to let her treat him like this?

'They apparently share your natural optimism. They think they can find us on foot. It will take them days to reach us yet, and by then we will have moved on.'

Sheppard shivered, a result of the mixture of the cold and the unwelcome physical contact. They were already somewhere far cooler than the original village, and remembering what McKay had said about the severity of the seasons on a planet with a high oblique axial tilt he knew that limited in where they could move to. 'Where were you planning on heading?'

'We can keep heading north.' Her hand slipped back up and into his hair now, her fingers raking through it far too intimately as she nuzzled against his neck.

For a moment or two, Sheppard was a terrified fourteen-year-old again, Senator Laurel pushing his hand back through his hair and telling him what a fine looking young man he'd grown into. No, he decided he wouldn't relive that yet again because of this woman. This was very different. He was a grown man now...a grown man with no control over his current situation...

'Thing is, the seasons here are pretty harsh. If we go much further north we're gonna freeze. You must be able to feel how cold it is here already...I know I can.' He dug his teeth into his lip and screwed his eyes shut as he felt the flicker of her tongue against his skin, her arms snaking around his waist and pulling him harder against her.

'So we might have to head east of the migration track instead. That means we'll have to set up our own lodgings, but I'm sure between the two of us we can manage that.'

_Yes, a nice little log cabin in the woods..._he thought. _Just you, me, and whatever torture implements you can carry._

'This Colonel Carter, she is your new leader?' Sarayah asked, interrupting his thoughts.

'Yeah, that's right.'

'Another female. Apparently even your society understands our worth.'

'Looks that way,' he replied, figuring it best to humour her.

'It takes a woman to keep a man like you from overstepping his boundaries,' she said, her fingers working through his hair a little more roughly now, as if the thought excited her. 'I think it was fated that you and I should meet.'

Her breathing had grown more ragged, her touches more aggressive. This was heading in a direction he really didn't want her to pursue, and he figured now was not the best time to disagree since that usually made things worse. He got the distinct feeling she was looking for an opportunity to practice a little of that violence she apparently disliked so much – that or something even more unacceptable. Time to play along.

'Yeah...maybe.' Well, it wasn't full acceptance, but it was the closest he could manage.

'We have a lot of work to do today,' she told him, continuing to toy with his dark locks. 'We should set traps to catch more food, and we'll need more wood for the fire since the stock you cut for us yesterday is almost used up already. Are you ready to begin?'

Was he ever? Anything that meant he could get his arms released and some clothes on sounded good to him. 'Sure...whatever you say,' he replied, his compliance given more for his own comfort than any desire to please her. But she didn't have to know that.

The ease with which he agreed seemed to please her immensely. 'Good. I'm so glad we aren't going to start the day with another fight,' she purred, kissing his neck before finally releasing him from her grip.

_You and me both, _he thought, relieved to feel her move away from him. He heard the sound of fabric rustling, and when she padded around to his side of the bed, wearing no more than his shirt loosely fastened over her body, he averted his gaze. Again, he bit back his loathing, resisting the urge to scream at her to give his damn clothes back.

'I'll fetch some water and we can both get cleaned up and ready to begin the day,' she suggested, giving him a smile as if all this were the most normal thing in the world.

He watched her go, then let his head drop back to the pillow with a sigh. He wondered if this good Sarayah/bad Sarayah show she had going meant they could add schizophrenia to her list of problems. That would be the icing on the cake. But there was hope now – his friends were still trying everything they could to get the 'gate working, and Teyla and Ronon weren't languishing with the prospect of a long and painful death. Things were definitely looking up, but rescue was still potentially days away in the form of the Daedalus. Could he play the role of subservient captive until then? Maybe...it all depended on how much Sarayah expected from him. There were certain things he was not prepared to give ground on. If he could keep her mind from wandering that way for four more days, he might just be able to get through this. But, in truth, optimism was slipping. Sarayah might have convinced herself this was all about teaching him to respect the ways of others, but he'd done enough research into her condition to know her desires to conquer and humiliate him in every possible way would never be far from the surface. This superficial niceness wouldn't last. It was only a matter of time before she completely reverted to form.

*****

Thankfully, despite his near miss with the noose last night, Sheppard was still able to eat some breakfast, and that gave him some strength for the day ahead. Of course, swinging the axe would have been much easier with more rest and without the poker injuries across his back, but you couldn't have everything.

Sarayah kept him permanently in her sights, though granting him some distance while she constructed rudimentary animal traps from various items in the village, the handgun resting on the ground beside her.

Watching her work reminded him a little too much of watching her weave her hastily made whip back on Karafus, so he paid her little attention, concentrating on his own work. Life was all just a little too easy this morning, and that unsettled him. He really did like her better when she was being predictably threatening.

'I think that will be enough for now,' she said, suddenly appearing behind him.

He almost jumped out of his skin. She had to be the quietest mover he'd ever know, and he was pretty hot on stealth himself. Setting down the axe, he started throwing the smaller logs into a wicker basket to carry into the house. It would take a few journeys to ferry them all, especially since he had to precariously balance the basket on his bruised hip, so couldn't over-fill it.

Sarayah stayed out in the open near the doorway while he took the basket backwards and forwards to the living space, unloading the contents and piling them up against the walls of the inglenook fireplace. This was something he was pretty familiar with. Most of the Sheppard family homes sported open fires like this, and he and Dave had earned themselves some extra allowance by cutting wood and restocking the fireplaces. Their dad could have bought it pre-cut to size, but he'd thought it important that his boys learned money had to be earned from an early age, and he hadn't minded, especially after the falling out with his dad. Wood cutting had loaned him an excuse to spend time alone and had given him something to take his anger out on, pretty much as it did right now.

After five journeys, Sarayah told him he had shifted enough for now and it was time to set the traps. She'd made four in all, and gave him two to carry for her while she guided him at gunpoint into the woods. They picked their way carefully around the underbrush, particularly Sheppard who was still barefoot, Sarayah instructing him on how to set the traps effectively so she didn't have to take her eyes off him at any point. He let her think she was in charge, even though he pretty much knew what he was doing anyway. He'd had survival training, and the traps weren't all that different to the one's he'd learned to fashion himself. But keeping Sarayah off her guard, letting her think she was so much better at these things than he was, was all part of his current survival plan for the next few days, as long as she...

When he stood, Sarayah was somewhat closer than he'd been expecting, and he stumbled back into a tree bole in surprise. She pursued him before he could get himself away from it, pressing into him and pinning him there.

'You've done well, this morning, John,' she smiled, her face leaning back to look up into his. 'I'm very pleased with you.'

'That's...good,' he stammered, wondering if he had time to disarm her. It wasn't like he had anyone else to fight out here. Just her. This was possibly the best odds he'd ever had when facing her – so what was stopping him? Exhaustion? Lack of transport? Fear?

'I'm sorry about hurting your throat,' she purred, stroking the bruises inflicted by the noose with the back of her fingers. 'If you keep behaving this well, there'll be no need for any more of that kind of thing.'

'And if you back-off, I might manage to keep up the good behaviour,' he heard himself suggest, wondering where the hell that had come from. He hadn't consciously formed the thought so guessed it was a voice from so far back in his past he had little control over it.

'But I need your complete compliance, John. Until I have it, I won't be sure you've given up on your plans to return to your friends.'

She'd already threatened to kill them once, and he suspected that if she thought he still had plans to join up with them, she might just make it her task to head back along the trail and pick them off. She was more than capable of doing it.

He swallowed nervously. 'I...I'm just gonna need a little more time on that.'

'You need more time, or you're stalling for more time?' she demanded, eyes hard and the pressure on his throat now increasing to the point of pain.

Then something caught his eye...a movement in the trees a few hundred yards behind her. If he'd thought his problems were bad then, what he saw emerging from the woodland made it blur into insignificance.

A creature resembling a grizzly bear in build, though almost twice the size, snuffled at the ground, picking up their scent.

Sheppard balled his fist in Sarayah's view, hoping she understood its meaning and didn't take it as some kind of invitation to a fight. She frowned, but seemed to understand it meant she should be still, her eyes locked on his in confusion. He gestured for her to turn and look in the animal's direction, and although she looked dubious about the prospect, she pushed her gun up under his chin then did so. Her breath caught; the animal'shead snapped up in reaction, revealing a terrifying set of sabre like fangs that hung down far beneath its jaw line.

Sheppard knew it had spotted them. 'Oh, crap!'

Sarayah's reaction was somewhat more proactive. 'Run!'

They did, heading back for the village as fast as their legs would move, which in Sheppard's case, shoeless and with an injured hip, wasn't fast enough. Every stride sapped al little more energy from him, and behind him, the beast was crashing through bushes and low lying branches as if they weren't there, gaining with every bound. The village still lay several hundred metres away. He wasn't going to make it.

Sarayah slowed long enough to grab Sheppard's shirt and pull him along with her, probably because she was crazy enough to think he might use this as an opportunity to escape from her, rather than putting herself at risk for him.

'Shoot the damn thing!' he yelled, hoping Sarayah didn't choose this as a time to prove she wouldn't do as he asked her.

Thankfully, she had more sense than that, firing at the beast and sending it into a bone-crunching gambol, continued by its sheer momentum. It screeched a protest at their retreating backs, but neither of them hung around to see if it would get up again.

That tumble gave them time to put essential distance between them and it, and they didn't waste it. By the time they broke through into the village square, running full tilt for the building they'd made their temporary home, they could hear the animal back on their trail, breathing hard, its footfalls less even than they had been before it was injured, but still propelling it toward them at frightening speed.

They managed to get inside and slam the door, the latch falling in place before it reached them, but only just. Their backs pressed to the door, Sheppard felt the animal slam into the thankfully thick slabs of wood between it and them, rattling the wooden hinges and latch. He could hear the damn thing snorting at the door, as if it was trying to suck them out through the tiny gaps in the planks. Its claws scraped at the wood, and then it slammed against it again in frustration, sending a jolt through them both.

'Hold it shut!' Sarayah ordered, bolting away to grab the thick wooden bar that would block the door more effectively.

That was easier said than done, since he felt like he couldn't even hold himself up right now. Hearing the movement within, the beast began trying to gain entrance with renewed vigour, slamming over and over again into the woodwork separating it from Sheppard.

'Hurry up!' he ground out, pushing back as hard as he could as he felt the latch breaking.

She returned, and with a great effort, they manoeuvred the bar into place, securing the entrance. But there were more ways to get into that place, and they made it their priority to secure every window, fastening across the shutters in a similar manner. When it was done, Sheppard crept toward the window to the left of the door and peered out through the gap in the boards.

The furious animal was still scrabbling at the door, determined to get in. From this proximity he got a far better look at it, seeing that although it was a similar overall shape to a bear, its skin reminded him more of a wild boar, a little rough and with sparse, wiry hairs stabbing out in tufts all over his body. It slavered as it continued to claw at the ground outside the door as if it thought it could dig its way in under it...maybe it could if it kept this up for long enough.

As he watched it, Sarayah forced her way in between him and the shutters to get a better look.

'Magnificent beast,' she breathed. 'Looks like that bullet didn't slow it much.'

'Well, that thing is now standing between us and your traps. So much for that meal,' he snorted.

She strolled away, sitting down on the table and resting her feet on one of the chairs. 'Oh, don't you worry. It'll get tired and hungry and go away soon enough,' she grinned, obviously revelling in the excitement.

The sound of their voices sent the brute into a frenzy again. Sheppard jumped back as the hinges gave a little, but the wooden bar held. 'You think?' He wasn't so sure.

Sarayah just continued to grin at him, gaining far too much pleasure from their worrying situation as far as he was concerned. 'You see – we make a good team when we work together,' she smirked, polishing the barrel of the 9-mil on her sleeve.

'Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable with it. The only reason I didn't feed you to it was because I needed your bodyweight to help hold the door shut,' he blurted out.

She laughed; at least she'd taken that in good spirits. He'd half expected her to shoot him.

To his great dismay, the sounds outside changed. He could track the movements as the huge creature hauled its stinking carcass up the outside panelling and onto the roof, then began scratching feverishly at the boards above them.

'You have got to be kidding me!' Sheppard breathed, staring up at the wood above them. 'That thing's on the roof now?'

'Don't worry, we're safe while we remain inside,' she told him.

But as the boards creaked above them, and the animal began scratching again, Sheppard became less and less certain of that fact. 'Didn't you bother to find out about the indigenous life forms before heading out here into the middle of nowhere?'

'Of course, but they only kill one or two people a season so I felt it was worth the risk.'

'We_ are_ one or two people!' he yelled, flinching as a few splinters, fell down between them. 'I guess that makes us its quota for _this_ season.'

'Wait there,' Sarayah told him, disappearing through one of the doors leading off that main room he hadn't been allowed to explore yet.

'Uh, don't really have anywhere else to go right now,' he called after her, covering his head as another shower of splinters rained down on him.

He looked up just in time to see the monster rip a hole big enough to weaken the roof's integrity...and then both it and the roof came crashing down into the room below. Some of the boards landed on him, knocking him off his feet. The dazed creature lay sprawled on the other end of the wooden boards, its weight pinning him there as Sheppard tried to pull himself free. He watched in horror as the thing pushed up, giving its head a shake, then it turned to look at him. For a moment, time seemed to sit still as they stared into each other's eyes, then a low, guttural growl broke the stalemate. As the animal tried to pounce, the weight on Sheppard's legs shifted and he managed to roll to the side, freeing himself. The thing came after him again, and this time he wasn't quick enough to evade it, taking a swipe across his calf as he pushed back away from it. It shredded fabric and skin alike, and he cried out, trying to get to his feet as the thing came after him again.

It bore down on him, snarling and drooling...then suddenly the air was split by a dozen or more bullets from a P-90 set on rapid-fire. The animal bucked, turning now on Sarayah who had unleashed the spray of rounds his way. It leapt – another cacophonous chorus of shots ripped across the room and the thing dropped to the floor, screeching and twitching in agony.

With a victorious grin the Medulsan leapt on it, whipping her knife from beneath her shirt and slitting its throat almost ear to ear with considerable effort. Unable to make any noise now other than a sickening gargle, the beast thrashed until it threw her off, sending her tumbling back covered in a thick spray of its blood.

Sheppard watched in revulsion as the suffering beast slowly lost its battle, much to Sarayah's obvious glee. There was no two ways about it; she enjoyed inflicting pain on others – got some kind of thrill from it, in fact.

Once the thing was dead, she looked over it to him, a maddening smile splitting her face. 'Looks like we will dine well tonight,' she beamed as the creature's blood continued to pool and spread across the wooden boards beneath it. She tossed the knife towards him, aiming the P-90 at him in self-defence. 'You'd better get busy, John. This meal won't serve itself.'

The he wanted nothing more than to collapse on the floor and wait for his pain to subside at least a little, Sheppard forced himself up onto his feet and limped over to snatch up the blade, disgusted by the thought of the task that lay ahead of him. He'd never had to prepare such a huge animal for eating before, and the thing was barely dead. Unfortunately, despite his fatigue, it was clear refusal wasn't an option, so he set to work, hoping he could keep his breakfast down in the process.

* * *

**A/N: Uh oh! Sarayah _has _heard Teyla and Ronon's plans! And Sheppard's hopes of staying fit to launch an escape seem doomed to failure. Things are not going well for our team! Keep the reviews coming and I'll do my best to keep up the pace on the editing. :D You have no idea how fine I've been cutting it each morning!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 **

Rodney lifted his head and rubbed his sore eyes, looking at his watch and trying to figure out just how long he'd been staring at his computer screen. He'd gone through reams and reams of computer coding, but nothing had revealed itself as a connection between this building's systems and the 'gate. They were still missing something. He didn't know what, but he felt it instinctively.

Sam sat in another corner of the room, also rubbing her eyes. 'I think we should take ten,' she announced, and for once he had to agree.

They both stood, stretching out their stiff limbs, only now realising just how seized up they had become.

A shuffling sound behind him made Rodney jump in alarm, relaxing in relief as he found it was only Frah Lisso checking up on them again. Sam sent the marines accompanying him away and welcomed him in.

'We were getting worried about you all. I thought I should find out how you are doing,' he smiled.

Rodney couldn't help but notice the Frah was carrying a basket covered with a thin cotton cloth, and if he wasn't mistaken, some pretty tasty aromas were drifting his way. 'Er...is that for us?' he asked tentatively.

'Rodney!'

Frah Lisso dismissed Carter's shrill admonishment with a wave of his hand. 'Do not concern yourself, Colonel Carter. I have, indeed, brought some food for you all.' He passed the laden basket to a very grateful and ravenously hungry scientist, who immediately whipped back the cover and began rooting through the delicious contents.

'Is there any news on your missing colleagues?' he asked hopefully as he watched McKay pull out something resembling a muffin and tuck right in.

'Romom un' Teyl –' he muffled around a mouthful of food before Carter stepped in.

'Why don't I explain?' she suggested, and Rodney happily let her take over so he could get on with the more important task of filling his empty stomach.

'Ronon and Teyla are thankfully well, and currently trying to track down Sarayah, although they have no idea of the distance Sarayah covered after leaving them.'

'Still, they feel the need to do something to help. Colonel Sheppard must be a good man that people are prepared to go to such lengths for him. But I saw the wreckage near the Stargate. It seems you have had some kind of accident.'

'Yes, yes we have. The...Divine One...hit the jumper when it tried to dial the 'gate, killing two of our men.'

Rodney snorted at her use of that term, and she flashed him a silencing glare. He didn't mind; his mouth was too busy with other things to actually say what he thought.

The Frah's face fell at Carter's news, and he lowered his eyes to the ground. 'That is most unfortunate, but the Divine One will not let people leave the planet unless they are totally pure of spirit.'

'They were good men,' Carter intoned, and Rodney couldn't help but feel the strength of feeling behind those words. 'They didn't deserve this.'

'No...of course not...I meant no offence,' Lisso said meekly, clasping his hands before him and dipping his head in respect. 'I am truly sorry they had to come here and take such risks. Sarayah fooled everyone in our society with her stories of hardship, but it seems it is everyone else around her that actually suffers.'

'Don't feel bad about falling for her act,' Sam told him. 'She's a highly intelligent and very manipulative individual. She'll do just about anything to get what she wants.'

The man nodded his understanding, strolling over to the systems they had managed to make operational and squinting at the screens. 'Amazing. You've managed to breathe life into the work of the Ancestors.'

'Yes, and believe you me, it wasn't easy,' Rodney boasted, winning himself a shrivelling look from Carter for his arrogance even if it was more understated than usual.

'We're hoping these systems hold some information as to why your 'gate won't dial out,' she explained.

Suddenly, Frah Lisso's smile looked just a little strained. 'And have you found your answers?'

'Well, we have discovered that the Ancestors as you know them were carrying out some complex experiments regarding harnessing natural power sources on this planet to power a Stargate, so we think we'll unravel the problem very soon.'

'Oh,' the Frah said simply. 'That is most unfortunate.'

Rodney stopped eating. Had he heard the man right?

Sam frowned, clearly confused. 'Why unfortunate?'

'There are those of us on Guedeseo who would find the 'gate becoming operational rather...troublesome,' he explained. 'I, for one, know that there are several people on my home world who would wish me harm, and should they discover the trip here was no longer one way...well, I would prefer not to find out what they would do to me if they realised that was the case. And for that reason, I cannot allow you to finish your work.'

With that, he pulled Sheppard's sidearm from beneath his shirt and aimed it at Colonel Carter.

'What? Are you serious? Sheppard was freaking out about Sarayah taking his gun and you had it the whole time, you rat bastard!' Rodney shrieked.

'McKay – not helping,' Sam hissed, slowly raising her hands.

'Move away from the machines please, Colonel Carter,' the Frah asked politely. 'I have no wish to harm you, but they must not continue to function.'

'I can't do that, Frah Lisso,' Sam told him, standing firm. 'We need these systems and the information they hold to save our people. I can't let you destroy them.'

Rodney saw Carter's blue eyes flash toward him and hold his with such intensity that he knew she wanted him to do something. He started to reach for his side arm, feeling sick at the thought of what he might have to do.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dr McKay,' Lisso told him stepping back so he could keep them both in his sight. 'Hand over your guns...both of you.'

Rodney looked to Carter for instruction, and she dipped her head to tell him to do as the man said. He set the basket of food aside and pulled his weapon slowly from his thigh holster, sliding it across the floor toward the Frah. Sam, however, did not relinquish her gun so readily.

'Colonel Carter, please do not make this more difficult than it has to be,' Frah Lisso asked of her.

'This information is too valuable to us,' she reiterated. 'I'm not about to stand aside and let you blow it up.'

She flicked her eyes Rodney's way again, and suddenly he pieced her plan together. Without a gun, Frah Lisso wouldn't see him as a threat and so was focusing on Sam. Now, she needed him to create a diversion so she could disarm the Frah. He looked down at the basket beside him. It was a shame to waste good food, but...

The piece of fruit he let loose with bounced off Lisso's temple. The Frah flailed, aiming first at Rodney, then turning the gun on Sam and firing just as she did the same. They both spun and crumpled to the floor.

'Oh no! Oh nonononono!' Rodney squeaked, scrambling across the floor to where Sam and fallen. When he reached out to grab her, she was already starting to rise.

'It's okay, Rodney. It's not bad,' she assured him, covering the wound in her left forearm.

Frah Lisso rolled onto his back with a groan, clutching his right shoulder as blood oozed out through his fingers.

'Get the guns away from him, Rodney, then tie him up,' Sam ordered.

'Okay,' he agreed. 'Although, I'm not all that hot on the whole knots thing...'

'Just do it, McKay,' she grunted, obviously in pain as she slipped of her jacket and revealed the injury, leaving him reeling with nausea. Thankfully, she had been a far better shot than Lisso when the pressure was on, and his bullet had only grazed her. While Rodney got to work kicking guns to safe distances and tying the Frah's wrists and ankles together as best he could, he saw her fumble a field dressing out of its packet and try to apply it to her injury. Thankfully, their marine guards were quickly on the scene, and since they were far more adept at subduing prisoners, Rodney left them to it.

Instead, he offered Sam a hand, which, since she was struggling, she graciously accepted. 'Now contact Dr Keller and get her to have one of the troops escort her over here. I think Frah Lisso needs her help.'

And with that, Sam picked up some food from the basket and got back on with her work.

Rodney stared at her for a moment in awed silence, until she flashed him an impatient look that reminded him of her request.

'I'm on it!' he told her, and she got on with scrolling through the data again.

He watched her as he sent through his request. Man, did he ever still have a crush on this woman. He so needed to get a life.

oooOOOooo

Sitting back on his heels and taking a breather, Sheppard tried to work out which was the most disturbing to him – the fact he was already so worn out and filthy after only a few cuts of the animals abdominal cavity, or the way Sarayah was grinning at him like a demented Cheshire Cat as she watched him trying to wrestle with the carcass, which had to be at least three times his weight.

It had taken some time to lug the thing over to a wall where he could prop it on its back to start work on it. That act alone had caused him to break out into a sweat, and now, having cut an opening around three feet long in its thick stomach flesh, he was just about beat.

'You've done this before,' Sarayah commented, casually leaning against the wall where he was working. 'I'm impressed.'

'Yeah, well, it'd be a hell of a lot easier if you'd give me a hand with it,' he suggested.

She shot at the floorboards just in front of his knees, the noise echoing back off all the walls. 'But if I did that I wouldn't be able to hold my gun on you, and considering the sharpness of that knife you're wielding, I think that would be rather foolish, wouldn't you agree? Now get on with it.'

He cracked a crooked smile, wiping the sweat from his forehead on his sleeve. 'Nice to know you still think I'm that dangerous,' he panted, feeling anything but.

'Oh, I've never doubted that...maybe you always will be. That all adds to the excitement.'

Ignoring the suggestive smile now curling her lips, he took a deep breath and leaned over the great beast lying in front of him, trying to cut up past the ribcage.

Her hand caught his wrist.

'Don't crack the ribs. It'll take too long with bones as thick at his. You just have to reach up inside and cut through the gullet. Then you'll be able to tug everything out.'

'You make it sound so appealing,' he drawled, eyeing the creature with disgust. 'But I was trying to avoid doing that because the thing is way too big to handle that way.'

She squatted down beside him, still gripping his blood-coated, knife-wielding wrist. 'With those long arms I'm sure you can reach it if you try.'

Increasing the pressure, she slowly pushed his hand into the cavity. The sensation was pretty unpleasant, the creature's insides still warm and oily slick against his skin. His stomach lurched and he concentrated hard on making it settle again. She forced his hand further in, her erratic breathing showing her enjoyment of the proximity and the sensations they now shared. Squatting beside him, she kept the gun in her free hand pressed to his neck. 'Go on, push in harder,' she urged, her eyes fixed intently on him as her fingers slid down across the back of his hand and forced their way between his, loosening his grip on the slippery hilt of the knife.

Her words and their obvious insinuation brought a rush of heat to his cheeks, as did the way she slid her fingers in and out of his.

'You're not embarrassed are you, John? An experienced man like you?'

He could feel her heart hammering against his side as she pressed herself to him. 'You know, you're kind of in the way there,' he hinted, hoping she would move away.

Not surprisingly, she completely ignored him. 'Doesn't revenge taste good?' she whispered. 'This creature shredded your leg and now you're cutting it to pieces.'

'It was just an animal. It wasn't personal,' he replied, as his slippery fingers lost their hold on the knife and she took a hold of his hand, weaving her own fingers through his. 'You know...that's really kind of creepy,' he protested, but again his complaint was ignored.

'Savour the moment, John,' she breathed, rubbing her fingers between his more vigorously. 'How often will you have the opportunity to devour your attacker?'

'I'm pretty much hoping this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,' he assured her, tugging his hand away from hers and searching the knife out again, though whether it was to finish the job of gutting the animal or to fight her off if she didn't get the hell away from him he wasn't entirely sure.

Her hand slid further up his arm, and came to rest on his shoulder, where she used him as a means to push herself up. 'Come on, John. You're a warrior. I'm sure you've seen worse than this in your time.'

'Yeah, I've seen worse, just not this up-close and personal. I usually leave messing around with internal organs to the medics.'

'Even so, I'm sure you'll manage it,' she told him, nudging him in the shoulder blade with her gun, right where the worst if his bruises were.

Realising further protest was pointless, Sheppard leaned in, forcing both his arms up inside the animal's ribcage and feeling around for the oesophagus. It took some cutting, but when it gave way and he pulled his arms free, Sarayah kicked the beast onto its side and its intestines came spilling out all over the floor.

The smell was appalling. 'Urgh! That's so gross,' Sheppard complained, trying his best not to gag as he buried his nose and mouth in the crook of his arm. It didn't help much since he was literally covered in the animal's blood.

'Quickest way to start getting them out,' she told him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 'Now give that airway a good pull.'

Holding his breath and leaning across the slippery entrails, he reached back inside and gave the oesophagus a tug, causing it, the lungs and the heart to all tear away and with a little extra cutting, the heart, liver, kidneys and other internal organs came, too, everything spilling out into his lap as he worked.

Covered in thick, dark blood and other sticky internal secretions, he was forced to sit back and take another breather, longing for fresh air.

As he did so, Sarayah strolled over to the fire she'd lit while he'd been in the early stages of wrestling the thing and set a pot of water to heat. He guessed they were boiling the meat then, not his favoured cooking method, but he didn't suppose he had much say in the matter.

'You know, I'm not sure I should be crawling through all this crap with an open wound on my leg,' he pointed out, taking the splint off his fractured arm and finding it full of gore. He dropped it to the floor in disgust, deciding he could manage without it.

She looked over from the fire, sauntering slowly back his way. 'Oh, don't worry about that. As long as you're careful and don't puncture anything you've pulled out, you should survive the experience. I can dress it for you later.'

'Give me the dressing and I'll do it myself.'

'I said, I'll dress it for you later,' she reiterated, making it clear she intending it to go her way. 'Now, start cutting that thing up or we'll never get it cooked in time for the evening meal.'

Then she went back to leaning on the wall and watching him.

Skinning the animal was tough, its hide thick and well secured to the muscle beneath it. He sliced and pulled, over and over, until one full side of the body was ready for slicing up and the sweat dripped off his face and ran down his back from the physical effort he'd put into it. The gagging had stopped now, the sight of the muscle and bone nowhere near as repulsive as the process of preparation it had gone through. Though drained he worked on, cutting free both legs at the joints and cleaving the ribs into sections, before slicing off great slabs of meat and stacking them away from the entrails. A few hours and several breathers after the process had started, almost one half of the carcass was stripped of anything useful and he gave up, finding a clean patch of floor to collapse on.

Even the sound of Sarayah's footsteps approaching didn't bother him as he lay panting under the gaping hole in the roof, waiting to cool down. Whether she thought he'd done enough or not, he was staying put. She paused to examine his work, then crossed to where he lay, smirking down at him. 'Nice job, John. That should keep us going for a few days.'

A few days? There was enough there to feed a small army. 'Worked up an appetite?' he quipped, squinting up at her.

'Very much so, but first things first. I'll choose a cut to eat tonight and then we should get the rest of that meat stored somewhere cool.'

'And by "we" you mean...?'

'You, of course.'

'I'm thinking this place is going to be pretty cool considering the hole in the roof,' he pointed out.

'True enough, but it's not secure. We'll move across to another building and store it there.'

'Well, I'm sorry, but if that's down to me, you're gonna have to wait a while.'

She bent down beside him, jamming the gun beneath his jaw. 'Really? Because I hate to be kept waiting. And it will be so much easier if you do it before I force an agreement out of you.' She straightened up and stood on his right arm, putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure on it and aiming her gun at his hand. 'I'm sure you could still carry things even if you were minus a couple of those fingers.'

Though he hesitated, he knew she meant what she'd said, so grudgingly nodded, then took the hand she offered him, allowing her to haul him back up to his feet.

He looked first at the pile of meat, and then at the wood stacked beside the fire. All of that would have to be moved to their new accommodation, and he pretty much figured she wouldn't be helping. If she planned to break him through sheer exhaustion, she was doing a damned fine job of it. But this was what she excelled at. This had been her life for years on Medulsa; she had practiced it all to perfection.

Four days, he kept telling himself, four days at the most and he'd be gone because the Daedalus would come and get him the hell out of there if he didn't get his hands on the key card for the truck first. He'd been trained to withstand this kind of treatment, the physical work and punishment, the sleep deprivation and hunger – and to a lesser extent the harassment – and with no one else in immediate danger, he was prepared to go along with it until a clear opportunity arose.

'Come on, John. The sooner we get started, the sooner we get finished. And by then the water will be nice and hot and we can get you all cleaned up again,' she smirked, jabbing the gun into his ribs.

His skin raised in goose bumps all over when she said that. Although he'd known it was inevitable he would have to wash down after this, but he doubted "we" meant quite the same thing as it did when she'd said it in connection with the exertions required to move them. Suddenly, his afternoon of work wasn't the thing that turned his stomach the most.

oooOOOooo

Another day had passed, and Ronon and Teyla now settled down for a few hours of rest before setting off again.

They had been forced to take shelter under an overhanging rock, and though it protected them from the worst of the rain, their clothes were still damp and cold against their skin.

They had managed to gather enough dry wood before the heavens had opened to build a fire, and now cooked a couple of rodent type creatures Ronon had managed to trap the previous evening and had carried with them for their evening meal.

'I still cannot believe that Frah Lisso shot Colonel Carter. He seemed a genuinely sweet man...if a little strange.'

Ronon arched an eyebrow. 'He was a creep. I never trusted him.'

'That does not surprise me,' she smiled back at him. 'You trust very few people, Ronon.'

'Yeah, well, this is one screwed up world. If it's not Sarayah it's one of the holy guys taking a shot at us.'

'Fixing the gate would be troublesome to many of the people who travelled to this planet looking for forgiveness and refuge. I only hope no one else makes an attempt to stop them.'

Ronon couldn't help but notice how tired Teyla looked despite her seemingly relaxed mood. He knew all this walking was pushing her hard, but she would never admit to it.

'Teyla,' he said, her eyes immediately flicking up to meet his. 'If you want to stop at the next migration stage we reach, I'll understand. We may have hundreds of miles to go yet –'

'And we will continue to walk them together,' she told him, holding his gaze confidently. 'You surely do not wish to face such a journey alone?'

'We have no idea how much further we'll need to travel.'

'That is true, so perhaps we will find her at the next migration stage and all this will be over.'

Ronon nodded, watching the flames dancing around the animals he was cooking in them. 'All I'm saying is if she isn't, you don't have to feel bad if you can't go any further.'

Teyla smiled serenely, scooting a little closer to the fire to warm her hands. 'Thank you for worrying about me, Ronon, but if you are offering me a way out of this, I must decline. I have lost too many friends recently, both Athosian and those from Atlantis, to not do everything I can to help one of them now. This is John we are talking about. If I were to offer you the same opportunity, would you not refuse it, too?'

'Yeah,' he conceded. 'Yeah, I would.'

'I wish there was some way to get to him more quickly. I would feel better knowing he was no longer facing Sarayah alone.'

'Yeah...know what you mean. It'd be good if we could just stumble across some abandoned truck and fix it up...'

'There is no point in wasting time on what we wish we could do,' Teyla told him. 'We must concentrate only on what we can do.'

Though he knew she was right, the sense of frustration that things seemed so far outside of his control that he felt like punching the rock behind him until both his fists bled. Of course, that would achieve nothing but Teyla's disapproval, so he held that in, rocking as he hugged his knees. 'I hope he's giving as good as he gets.'

'I have no doubt he will try his hardest. His best hope is that she slips up with her plans and gives him an opportunity to get away from her.'

'Well, if she does, Sheppard'll take advantage of it.'

Ronon looked her way, seeing the sadness in her expression as she gazed into the flames. Sheppard had been in trouble before, but they'd always been in a better position to help. Out here, alone and without decent weapons, Sarayah had a distinct advantage over them. Added to that, she didn't seem to feel fear or compassion, or any of the emotions that might slow her down or stay her hand. Sheppard needed someone to break him out now before the twisted bitch beat the crap out of him...again, and neither they nor anyone else could do what he needed them to do most.

As he lost himself in thoughts of how badly he wanted to hurt that woman, their radio crackled into life...

**A/N: Okay, tomorrow is a big chapter, length and content wise, so wish me luck that I manage to get it ready in time. I foresee a late night ahead, lol! :D**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: OK. Like I said yesterday, this one is a bit of an epic, so I apologise in advance for the length of this chapter, there was just nowhere sensible to split it! I have managed to give it one read through this morning, so sorry if there are any errors! Thanks again to everyone for continuing to follow the story. :D**

**Chapter 26 **

Sheppard pulled on his third set of clean garments in two days, unimpressed by the fact Sarayah had joked she would soon run out of clothes for him. That after giving him the most thorough and invasive bathing session of his life. Her comic timing really needed some work, as had some of the more stubborn staining she'd helped him get rid of, much to his disgust.

Despite, or more than likely because of, his insistence that he could wash himself, she'd overpowered him by twisting his injured arm up behind his back and slapping on the Atrascan cuffs...then shortly after that she'd gagged him to the point he'd almost choked when his language had turned a mite colourful. So he'd been restrained on his knees while she'd had her fun – and, oh boy, had she had fun – all the time wishing he could just get hold of a gun and put an end to this.

It wasn't like he hadn't been washed by someone else before; he'd been injured badly a few times...usually at her hands...and the recoveries had required complete bed rest, ruling out the chance for a shower and many other basic functions. Some of those nurses could get a little rough if they'd had a long shift, but nothing they'd done compared to what he'd just endured. He shuddered again at the thought of her touches, glaring at her from his seat while they waited for the meat to finish roasting. The whole thing had been utterly demeaning, no doubt intentionally so. Clearly that was her plan, not to break him with exhaustion, but sheer humiliation.

Sarayah watched him now from her usual seat at the head of the table, though it was a different table this time since they'd been forced to move to another building. She tampered with the radio and clutched her knife for protection as she waited for more information. Throughout the day, Sheppard had heard various reports from Teyla to Carter on their progress, all the time desperately wanting to grab the radio and tell them she was listening in, but never having the opportunity. He looked at it again now, knowing he would have to do it sooner or later to warn his friends before they walked into some kind of trap or she moved him on, but knowing the kind of price he would have to pay when he did.

Heavy rain had set in not long after their move, and from the sound of it thundering against the wooden roof he was glad to be inside...well...kind of. Now, with a roaring fire burning in the open fireplace – freshly stocked with all the wood he'd cut and moved there single-handed again – the room actually felt quite cosy, aside from the icy chills of revulsion running down his spine whenever he caught sight of the way Sarayah was looking at him. His skin was literally still crawling.

He checked his dressing, the blood already beginning to seep through the makeshift bandages she'd applied to his calf. It wasn't bleeding heavily, but it didn't seem to want to stop, either. Plus is stung like fury, which couldn't be good. To her credit, Sarayah had given it a clean with an antiseptic wipe stolen from their field medical supplies, but he suspected it was going to take more than that to treat it.

The slabs of meat roasting over the open fire now smelled pretty appetising, and he hoped he would be able to block the Chainsaw Massacre style butchering scenes from his mind long enough to enjoy at least some of it. He was hungry...real hungry; he hadn't eaten a proper meal in days, and tonight he was determined to get his fill, come what may.

Without a single word, Sarayah pushed the radio in her pocket and rose smoothly from her chair, heading off into one of the various side rooms. The layout of this building was much the same as the other one, as was the furniture within it, but as with the last one, he hadn't been allowed to see in any rooms other than this one and the cellar where he'd stacked the meat. However, unlike the other building, this one had a mezzanine level, presumably for storage, though he couldn't see if anything was up there. While he'd been restrained, Sarayah had brought a few essentials over from the other building herself, things she hadn't wanted him to handle, weapons and drugs no doubt, which she had then stored out of sight. Was she heading out to get some of those now?

Again, the thought of making a run for it popped unbidden into his mind, but now, with his injured leg, he was even less likely to get free than he had been the last time he'd considered that option. No, this was not the right time. Much as he wanted out of there, he needed to wait for the odds to shift in his favour. The only way out of there was the truck, and for that he needed the key card. Whatever came his way tonight, he was just going to have to try to sweet-talk his way out of it unless he found out where she was keeping it. He had a strong suspicion it was on her person because she wouldn't leave something that vital to chance. So that meant overpowering her...overpowering her when she was constantly armed and, if not, he was restrained. He didn't rate his chances. The sensible thing was to wait for rescue to come.

When she returned, Sarayah carried two flagons in her free hand, both of which she slammed down on the table, pushing one in front of his setting. 'Some wine to enjoy with our meal,' she announced, before heading over to the fire and removing the meat from the flames. She stabbed her knife into it and dropped it onto a plate, then slid it across the tabletop so it sat within the reach of both of them. 'Get some of that into you. It'll give you energy.'

He resisted the urge to ask 'For what?' for fear of what the answer would be. Hopefully, if she drank the whole flagon of wine currently sitting in front of her, she'd be in no fit state to try any funny business later on. Unless she could hold her liquor, of course...

Picking up a slab of meat, he juggled it from hand to hand until the hot juices stopped burning his fingers. Thankfully it wasn't rare, because the slightest sign of blood would probably have stopped him eating it. If he never had to gut another animal in his life he would die a happy man. When he was sure it wasn't so hot it would burn the skin from the roof of his mouth, he took a bite. It tasted a lot better than the foul thing had looked or smelled, but it was pretty tough to chew. The flavour reminded him of beef, but coupled with the consistency of shoe leather lost some of its appeal.

He could feel his table companion watching him as she sipped her drink, and sensed the wry amusement oozing out of her as he struggled to sink his teeth in and rip off another chunk. 'Don't forget your wine,' she urged.

_Not until I've lined my stomach, _he thought. But she leaned across the table and nudged it a little closer. _Ah, so...not a friendly offer, then?_

Dropping the troublesome meat back on the plate, he opened the lid and gave the wine a sniff. It smelled harmless enough, so he took a cautious sip. It was rich and fruity and warm on his tongue, with a kick that suggested it had a pretty high alcohol volume. He suppressed the urge to cough that it caused on its way down for fear of looking like an inexperienced drinker.

'Good, isn't it?'

He nodded, but returned to eating instead. From her seat, he could feel her frustration begin to bubble. Did she actually think he was so dumb that this bodged attempt at subtlety would stop him realising she wanted to get him drunk? But why drunk? If she wanted him out of it, she had a few syringes of sedative left – he'd done the math. Of course, sedative completely knocked him out and left him useless for...other things. An instant of memory flashed into his head; hands fumbling his clothes from his body, touching...stroking...feverish kisses. He shut them down, refusing to pay them any attention.

So the wine was meant to break down his defences, but leave him more...capable?

_Oh, crap!_

For the time being, he stuck with the shoe-leather meat. Sarayah continued to swig slowly at her own measure, silently regarding him over the rim. He'd never wanted her to speak to him before, but, suspecting the kind of thoughts wandering through her mind, he wished she would say something, anything, that would prove he was wrong.

As if in answer to his wishes, she suddenly spoke. 'I have thought about this moment for a long time.'

Those weren't the words he'd been hoping for. He cringed inwardly, then quipped, 'Really? Funny – this is pretty much the last thing I ever imagined happening.'

She smirked, leaning her elbows on the table as she pressed in toward him. 'Well, perhaps not this exact moment, but the opportunity to speak to you calmly...alone...no outside interference.'

He raised his eyes to her. 'Well, I'm all for talking...talking's good.' _You're gabbling, John. Cut it out!_

'I feel like I've got to know you over the years...that we have the measure of one another...more or less.'

She pushed the flagon at him again. He hesitated, then spotted the intensity in her gaze. If he didn't want this to turn painful, he should drink some of it...and to be honest, right now, he needed the Dutch courage. He took a longer drink, hoping that would satiate her for a while.

'But there is one aspect of your personality I can't quite understand. I realise you have a problem with authority –' she said, tinkering with the radio and setting it down on the table again.

Sheppard instantly stiffened. If he'd had a dollar for every time someone had said that to him he'd be...well, the rich man his dad had always intended him to be.

'And that is where this animosity between us began – because I was your superior ...'

_Don't bite, John. See where this goes_, he told himself, his grip on the meat in his hand tightening.

'Your father – he ruled with intolerance, didn't he?'

His mood darkening, Sheppard slugged back another mouthful of wine. He had the distinct feeling he would need its softening effects to get through this conversation. He didn't talk about his family, too many painful memories came along with thoughts of those he'd grown up with, and he certain didn't talk family with someone like Sarayah. He saw her incline her head from the corner of his eye, watching him and evidently waiting for an answer.

Always watching him.

'Where are you going with this?' he demanded.

'I'm just trying to understand you a little more,' she said innocently. She clearly knew his father was a touchy subject, but how? Thankfully she explained herself, clearing up his confusion.

'On Karafus, when I was...punishing you...and you were confused, I heard you whisper, "Please, Dad – stop!" Once Dr Heightmeyer explained what a "dad" was, I understood what it meant. Your father used to beat you, didn't he? A terrible way for a parent to treat a child.'

In truth, his father had only beaten him once, but that violent act had only signalled the end of their already struggling relationship. Patrick Sheppard was of a generation who thought you had to treat a boy mean to make sure he grew up to be a man. And that had meant many arguments between his mom and dad, fighting over any affection she tried to lavish on her boys. They'd argued the day she died...the day she'd driven away from their home in tears, never to return. John closed his mind completely at that point. That was a memory far too hurtful to relive here. That one needed the full couch job.

He met Sarayah's taunting and fake sympathetic smile full on. 'No, you think neck snapping is the way to go, right?'

For a moment, a fire ignited in her dark orbs. She snatched a piece of meat from the plate, her movement so sudden he jumped in his seat, cursing himself for showing fear. She sliced a small piece from the larger slab and chewed on it thoughtfully before answering him.

'That was the way on Medulsa for most male offspring. We treated our female children well.'

'Yeah, teaching them all how to torture men...that kind of thing.' She pursed her lips and he knew he was pushing her hard. He drank some more wine and let the effects take hold. 'No offence...okay, maybe some...but the day anyone has to take parenting advice from you, the human race is pretty much doomed.'

oooOOOooo

Teyla and Ronon had all but frozen on first hearing Sarayah's voice coming through their radio. Teyla had snatched it up from the ground beside her and now clutched it tightly, her jaw clenched hard as she listened to the scene unfolding through the transmissions.

Ronon still sat beside her, his head hung as he listened. This was bad...he felt it in his gut. Sarayah hadn't made any attempt to contact them before, and he doubted the transmission was accidental. She wanted them to hear this for a reason. Already, they'd heard things Sheppard would not have wanted to share with them. He wanted to stop it now before it got any further.

'Turn it off, Teyla,' he told her, raising his eyes from the ground at last. 'We shouldn't listen to this.'

She shook her head. 'But what if John opened this channel? We might hear something useful...some clue to the distance between us. We should listen for a while longer.'

'I doubt Sheppard has anything to do with this, and Sarayah won't tell us anything she doesn't want us to hear,' Ronon told her.

He could see Teyla understood what he meant, but she continued to cling to the radio as if it was an extension of Sheppard himself. 'Just a few moments longer,' she insisted.

Ronon shook his head, but let her continue to monitor the conversation, knowing it wouldn't bring her the sense of comfort she sought.

oooOOOooo

Sarayah regarded Sheppard coolly, her dark eyes watching the flagon as he raised it to his lips again, then tracing it back to the table before focusing back on him. She was always watching him. He never had any privacy with her around.

'I have the capacity to be kind,' she demurred.

That particular mouthful of wine didn't make it to his stomach, just sputtered out across the tabletop. 'Somehow...I seriously doubt that,' he snorted, mopping his chin.

'If you gave me a chance, you could find out.'

Her hand landed on top of his, but he instantly reached for more meat. There, he could be subtle, too. Now she didn't know whether that was a rebuttal or a genuine desire for more food...right? 'I'll take your word for it, if it's all the same to you.'

'What you saw of me on Medulsa...that wasn't a role I chose. It was thrust upon me...'

'And you just happened to have a natural talent for it, huh?' he chuckled. Laughing? Was he actually laughing at her now? The drink was clearly stronger than he'd thought. Her glare made him realise he needed more wine for this challenge, so he drank some more, a lot more, very quickly.

'You saw me at my worst there. I had a role to play...one others were reluctant to carry out correctly. I had to make up for the shortfalls of the other guards by being harsher than was perhaps required.'

Sheppard shook his head, unable to suppress the smirk that brought to his face. 'Don't tell me – you cried yourself to sleep every night over it.'

'Sometimes...yes.'

Now he laughed again. He had an inbuilt bullshit detector, and the alarm was sounding loud and clear. 'But only on the nights you weren't drugging men and dragging them back to your lair, right?'

'You don't trust anyone, do you?' she asked, sipping her own wine again.

His laughter stopped. 'People have to earn my trust,' he said, picking up more meat to chew on.

'Your father must have damaged you terribly to leave you so...afraid.'

Sheppard slammed his meal down on the table and sat back, folding his arms across his chest and forming a physical barrier between them. 'What the hell do you think all this bad parent crap is gonna do to me, Sarayah? D'you think I'm gonna break down and admit I was wrong about everything I've done in my life, and it's all because my dad hit me?'

'Perhaps it's something you should consider.'

He laughed again, the wine making him brave...or foolish, he hadn't made up his mind which yet. 'So you've had, what, nine months of counselling with Heightmeyer and now you're an expert in psychology?'

'Oh, I think I understand what drives you, John Sheppard,' she assured him confidently.

'I'm pretty sure you don't,' he muttered in response, slugging back more wine. Alcohol had the effect of transforming people, enhancing aspects of their personality in a way they wouldn't dare show when sober. Sheppard realised he wasn't an emotional drunk, a romantic drunk, or a stupid drunk. He was an honest drunk – a fact that had revealed itself at what was probably an unfortunate moment.

Sarayah left her seat and hopped up on the table beside him, stroking his cheek with the flat of her blade. 'You're only following in the footsteps of your father. It's a natural mistake to make.'

Sheppard's eyes snapped up to hers, and for once he didn't care if he angered her. There was only one thing anyone could say to really insult him, and she'd just said it. 'What happened between us on Medulsa was nothing to do with my relationship with my dad,' he growled, pushing his chair back and standing up now. 'I saw a whole race of men in need of help, so I helped them. You and the other women were unnecessarily oppressing them. I changed that and you lost your status in the community. Things needed fixing and I fixed them. That's it.'

'I was happy with things the way they were. Did you stop and think for a moment how the change would affect me?'

'You know what,' he challenged, hands on hips as he glared back at her. 'I did. I thought about it that first time you whipped me. I thought about it when you stuck my head in that barrel of water and half drowned me, I thought about it again the second time you whipped me, and then again when you tried to force yourse –'

He stopped, the face filling his head as he thought about that event was not hers at all, but Senator Laurel's. She was right; at some subconscious level, his childhood trauma had driven him to stand against the women of Medulsa. He'd seen those men and boys being oppressed, and something inside him, some dormant resentment, had risen to the surface, kicking and screaming to be born. Elizabeth had wanted him to return to Atlantis so she could try to negotiate a deal, but no. A deep-rooted need to kick-out had made him stay and rail against their ways from the inside.

'It's not your fault, John. Your father damaged you –'

'I am not damaged, and you...you stay the hell out of my head!' he ordered her, but he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. They'd more or less proved she had the advantage.

oooOOOooo

'Teyla, she's just screwing with his head. This isn't helping anyone. You need to stop listening NOW.'

Ronon's tone was forceful, but she knew he wouldn't stop her listening in until she was ready, and painful as this was to listen to, she felt the need to hear it. More than anything, she wanted John to fight this woman, to take her on and beat her, and she hoped that by continuing to listen she would hear that victory. At the same time, the fear she might hear something quite different had her hovering on shutting the channel down, even without Ronon's insistence.

'Just a few moments longer,' she said quietly, feeling her friend's anger brewing. 'I need to do this, Ronon. We may hear something yet.'

'Sheppard wouldn't want us listening to this stuff...it's private,' Ronon rumbled, clearly uncomfortable with their eavesdropping.

'I know, but he does not need to know we ever did,' she reassured him, clasping the radio between both hands and listening intently, hoping for some kind of slip from the Medulsan that would give them hope of reaching Sheppard soon.

'Well, you can carry on torturing yourself like this if you want, but I'm not listening to another word of it,' the Satedan growled, pushing up from the floor and stalking away, out from under cover and into the open where the rain had almost stopped now.

oooOOOooo

Toying with her knife, enjoyment clearly danced in Sarayah's eyes. 'I can teach you how to think again, John, how to realise you can't just go stamping your ideals on other people, how to respect the lives and needs of others. It hurt you when your father tried to force you to do things against your will, and you –'

'He didn't force me to do anything...at least not what you think!' he spat, backing up. So, she wasn't as good at this stuff as he'd thought and that helped him snap out of his sinking mood.

She narrowed her eyes, gauging him again, picking up something in his stance, his defiance, his body language. He wished she would stop doing that...poking around inside his head. He didn't want her knowing his past, and the more she guessed, the closer she was getting to the truth.

'But someone has because you're hurting, I can see that quite plainly. I can help you let go of those feelings.'

'Right, yeah. You lured me to a planet I couldn't escape from with the sole intention of helping me solve my issues, because you really are that nice,' he scoffed. 'Just stay the hell away from me.'

'You need to find someone who knows how to guide you,' she said edging toward him again. 'I can do that... teach you to accept that sometimes others are right and you must just bear that and not take it to heart.' She reached out toward him.

'What, by beating the crap out of me every time I step out of line? I don't think so.' He batted her hand away like a bothersome fly, hovering, persistent and waiting to land. Always watching him...always touching...

'This was never going to be an easy process for you, John. Letting go of control never is.'

He looked at her, non-plussed. What the hell was she trying to do? Did she really think she could convince him everything was his problem...that he was the unstable one with the control issues? Was that what the alcohol was for, to blur his thinking so she could sew that seed of doubt? Well, he wasn't that weak-minded. He wouldn't fall for her crap.

'Don't you dare try to make this about me, you freak. _You _are the one with the control issues, and _you _had them a long time before you met me. I just stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time.'

'No, John. I'm not the one who's wrong here. That's what your friends want you to think, the ones who benefit from the way you live your life right now because you are their superior. It pays to be your friend when you're on top.'

_Try telling that to Ford or Elizabeth, _he thought,_ not to mention all the others. _Being a friend of John Sheppard generally wasn't all that beneficial as far as he was concerned. Then he noticed something. His radio on the table behind her...it was set to transmit.

'Is that radio broadcasting this?' he demanded.

'What if it is? Your friends should know what drives you, John. You're not keeping secrets from them, are you? Secrets are terribly unhealthy between friends.'

'No, the only "terribly unhealthy" thing here is you. Now turn the damn thing off!'

She slipped off the table and walked toward him, eyes burning brightly as if she sensed his mounting agitation. 'But I think your friends should hear this. If they're so desperate to rescue you they're prepared to follow us, the least we can do is let them see just what kind of a man you are...or maybe they should just listen in and hear how their plans to launch a surprise attack have been discovered. You must want them to know that. Why don't you tell them you don't need their help...that you'd rather stay with me? Or maybe I should just tell them that if they persist with their plans to take you back from me, I will take their arrogance out on you.'

'You're deranged,' he hissed, backing up again, but finding he had nowhere left to go as his back hit the wall. 'Just turn off the radio.'

She pinned him in place, sliding her hand up his chest with her knife blade pressed flat to his throat. 'You wouldn't be telling me what to do, would you, John?'

Embarrassed, by the thought his friends might have heard even the few things they had, all plans to keep her sweet and play along until rescue came flew out of the window. Tired of her constant touching, prodding and cajoling , he decided it was time to let her know what he really thought, whether she cut his throat or not.

'Okay, if you're going to be my analyst from now on...analyse this!' He threw a right that connected so hard it sent her staggering back, spilling over the chair he'd left sitting away from the table. His heart raced, knowing things were about to get very, very bad, but not sure he gave a much of a damn any more. If she wanted him the way he thought she did, she was gonna have to damn well fight for him.

She clambered back to her feet, dabbing at the blood he'd drawn with the back of her hand. 'That wasn't very clever, John,' she growled, 'but I'm going to put it down to the fact you're drunk.'

Now she mentioned it, he was feeling pretty unsteady. Maybe he was an aggressive drunk after all.

'You can put it down to whatever the hell you like, lady, but you are not comin' near me again tonight,' he warned her. 'You may think you're smart, but I know what all this was about. You thought you could fill my stomach with food and drink, get the place all warm and cosy and show me some concern and I would just roll over and play submissive like some obedient puppy so my friends could hear. Well, let me tell you this,' he raved, wagging a shaky finger her way. 'I'm through playing your games. It doesn't matter what you or I think, my people are gonna come looking for us, and if you're lucky, they'll find us, because if they don't come soon, you're gonna push me just one step too far, and trust me, it will not be pretty.'

'John –'

She stepped toward him again, her arm outstretched and her face fixed in a patronising smile.

'Just stay right where you are,' he ordered, and for a second or two she did, but he knew she was just gauging him, waiting for her moment to pounce. Nothing he said frightened her. She didn't seem to be afraid of anything. She was like a shark on the hunt; his blood was in the water and the feeding frenzy was about to begin.

'You don't mean that, John. Do you?'

The question was quite clearly a veiled threat – a warning that she expected him to back down and let her approach or things were going to get very unpleasant for him. But he was feeling feisty from the sight of her blood and the victory of setting her on her butt. If she wanted a piece of him, she could damn well come try and get it.

'You know what. I think I do,' he replied bullishly, raising his chin as he met her challenge.

She made the mistake of trying to touch him again, and earned herself another punch, this time even harder. She stayed down a while, glaring up at him, which added fuel to the fire of his sudden bout of bravery.

'I've had it with you. This sordid little scheme you've been plotting – it's not happening. No matter what you do to me, no matter how much wine you make me drink, I will never do what you're pushing for. NEVER!'

oooOOOooo

Despite the distance, Ronon heard Sheppard raise his voice via the radio, and decided he could not let Teyla listen to any more of the transmission. He stormed over to her, snatching it from her grasp and flicking it off before swinging his arm back ready to fling it as far away from them both as he could.

Teyla leapt up and grasped his arm to prevent him seeing that action through. 'No, Ronon! We may still need it!

His chest heaved in anger that he couldn't release, so he roared his rage out into the vast darkness of the night enveloping them.

Teyla let go of him and he suspected for the first time ever she was a little afraid of him. He wanted to tear something apart...no...he wanted to tear that woman apart...but she wasn't there – she was still somewhere too far away to reach.

Sheppard needed them, not tomorrow, not the next day, but right now, and they weren't able to help him.

It tore him apart inside to think of what that woman was putting Sheppard through. Having spent seven years running from Wraith he understood fear, he understood anger. He also understood the utter sense of futility being trapped so far from help would nurture, much the same feeling as his inability to remove the tracking device the Wraith had implanted in him had initially caused...and much as his inability to act now made him feel now.

'He will stay strong,' he heard Teyla whisper, as if reassuring herself of the fact rather than him. 'He will not give in to her.'

And Ronon didn't doubt that was true...which meant there was a chance things were about to get very ugly and there wasn't a single thing they could do to stop it.

oooOOOooo

Deathly silence followed his outburst.

That was the point at which Sheppard had to reconsider. Maybe he was a stupid drunk after all. But he'd made his move, so now he had to follow through.

Before he could make a grab for her, she flung her knife his way, not hitting him, but sending it close enough to force him off balance and embed itself in the wall behind him. And then she was gone.

It took Sheppard less than a second to realise he was in deep crap, just slightly longer than it took for him to spot the key card lying on the floor where she'd fallen. He'd been right that she was carrying it, and now she'd dropped it. Snatching up both it and the knife he bolted for the door, forcing the huge wooden bar aside with his one good arm, then sprinting out into square.

Sarayah would have hidden the truck from view just in case his people had found some way of bringing through a jumper or other vehicle. And if this village was like the last one, there was most likely only one building big enough to house it. He turned and headed for the barn, weaving between buildings in the hope of staying out of sight, his feet slipping in the mud as he tried to move faster.

When close to the barn he stopped and peered out, knowing Sarayah would be after him any time. Swiping rain from his eyes, he checked around the corner, hoping to find the way clear. Instead, he saw Sarayah run out onto the ground in front of the barn doors, kitted out in her Atrascan sonic protection hat and carrying the pulse gun.

_Dammit! _He pulled his head back and tried to steady himself. He had to get into that barn. It wasn't like he had any other option now. If he didn't get to the truck she would just hunt him down, and his ass was grass. Looking down at the knife in his hand he contemplated trying to take her down, but in the dark and rain, and a little the worse for alcohol, he just wasn't sure he could make the shot count. Hand to hand wasn't exactly his forte at the best of times. He was more a shoot 'em up guy. If Ronon was here, he would have nailed her right between the eyes without missing a beat. But he wasn't, so he was going to have to turn this around himself.

'Come on, John. Don't be foolish. If you hand yourself and the card over to me now, I promise to be lenient.'

Like he was going to fall for that lie. He backed up another couple of steps. He needed to create a distraction to get her away from the door. Unless...

It occurred to him then that she only had the Atrascan weapon and maybe the handgun on her at most, so back at the house would be other weapons she'd taken from them – P-90s, knives, maybe even Ronon's energy pistol. If she was out here panicking about him heading for the truck, perhaps he had time to better arm himself for the fight.

He edged slowly backward, hoping the torrential rain would cover the sounds of his retreat. She was so much better than him at this – hunting in the dark – he just had to hope her fear of him taking the truck kept her busy long enough for him to find the weapons cache.

He made it back to the house unimpeded, sneaking in and heading through the door he'd seen her disappear through a few times. It led into a dark room lit only by the light from the oil lamps in the main room, so mostly cast in shadow. He saw several demijohns stored to one side, no doubt full of that potent wine he now wished he hadn't drunk quite so much of. And to his right were various handmade crates and woven baskets filled with various items for cooking, farming and other essential things. But there was one box from which he saw a protrusion of black fabric, possibly part of a tac-vest. That had to be worth checking out. He'd just managed to slide the crate on top of it off and start rummaging when he heard the slightest of noises behind him. He tried not to give away that he knew he was being approached, seeking out something in the crate he could use other than the knife. But there was nothing...just the tac-vest. Had she set it up that way so he would waste valuable time looking for his gear?

The nuzzle of her gun pressed to his back.

'Good move, John. Exactly what I would have expected of you. I suppose this means I know you better than you think, after all.'

He whirled, something she apparently didn't expect because he managed to slice her arm and draw a shrill cry, and then they were locked in a battle. He slammed her against the wall, each of them gripping the other's weapon arm and wrestling for control. Much as he tried, couldn't apply enough pressure to disarm her, but he was holding his own and thinking how best to achieve it when she dragged her boot down his injured shin, causing his leg to buckle reflexively and unbalancing him so he ended up with the gun pointing straight in his face...

Sheppard came back to his senses stretched out on the floor near the fire, his wrists bound and his body reluctant to co-ordinate itself into anything resembling an escape. When he finally made his head roll in the direction he wanted it to, he spotted Sarayah, stoking up the fire. Some distant voice told him she wasn't trying to make the place warmer, and he ordered himself to move, pushing back with his feet to slide himself away from her.

She immediately grabbed one of his muddy ankles and dragged him back, holding him there. 'You can't treat me like this anymore, John. I deserve respect...I DEMAND IT!'

He forced his other foot into her body to kick his way free, but the hot poker she applied to his thigh, burning through the fabric down to his skin, soon had him relenting. He twisted away, breaking free of her grip in the process and rolling to his knees. Sarayah stamped her foot down in the centre of his back before he could push up, flooring him.

'You have no idea what I had to go through to get you here! I endured the humiliation of returning to Medulsa, serving those pathetic weaklings, working for them, cleaning up the excrement of people I wouldn't have spat upon even if they had been CONSUMED BY FIRE – all until I felt their guard had dropped enough to make my move.' The poker found its way to his left side, pressing into his flesh at his waist. The pain took longer to register than he knew it should, more than likely due to the detachment effect of the pulse, but she knew what she was doing. She held it there until his squirming told her the pain had ignited and it was excruciating. He rolled onto his back to twist away from it again, the stinging growing as the after effects of the pulse steadily subsided. 'You brought that...on yourself. You couldn't follow...the laws of your...planet,' he hissed.

'THE LAWS YOU FLOUTED!' She kicked his bruised hip, revitalising the previously dulling effects of that injury. 'I did not suffer those humiliations just for you to deny me my reparation.' She pressed the tip of the glowing poker into his stomach, the smell of roasting flesh, now his own, permeating the air and stifling him.

He choked out a cry, biting back the urge to beg her to stop. He wouldn't give her that satisfaction. He arched and writhed, gritting his teeth to the point they felt like they might actually shatter.

'So what is it to be, John?' she asked, retracting the poker and returning to the fire as if she thought the red-hot metal might not be blistering enough. When she pulled it out again, it was glowing orange and the air around it rippled. 'More of the same...or the beginnings of your atonement?'

He pushed back again, his injuries agony as the movement stretched the freshly burned skin. 'Go to hell!' he spat.

She jabbed it into his stomach again, not pressing too hard, but she didn't really need to. The barest of contact was enough to release wave after wave of searing pain that made him feel as if all his nerves were aflame. When she moved the metal away the pain remained, eating its way down into the deeper tissue. He rolled and curled, but that only seemed to aggravate it, so he tried to get up again. He couldn't defend himself like this, lying prostrate on the floor before her.

She kicked him over onto his back and sat on him before he could move again. Grabbing his bound wrists, she forced them up above his head and held them there, the poker still ready to use.

'Come on, John,' she urged. 'It's a simple task...make amends...give me what I want when you have taken so much from me!'

Her face was coming closer to his, searching for a kiss. He twisted his head away, denying her again. 'Get...the hell...off of me!'

The poker made contact with his ribs in an attempt force his hand. 'Are you sure I can't convince you?' He screamed out his refusal, bucking to get her away from him, but she held on, gripping with her knees digging into his already damaged skin. 'I won't stop this, John, not until you concede that I am right and make amends.'

Stinging and pushed to his limits, Sheppard locked eyes with her. 'Never gonna...happen! Now get your...damn hands off me or I...swear I'll break both your arms!'

She froze, the poker so close to his skin he could feel the heat of it through his shirt, almost too hot to bear even at that proximity. But she didn't use it again. The metal clanged as it hit the floor, agitating his painful eardrums.

The blows came out of the blue, several landing before he had the chance to defend himself. Her punches were brutal, clubbing, pounding his head and torso as she yelled at him. 'If you will not willingly comply I will beat a submission from you!'

In the frenzy he somehow managed to throw her off, rolling and pushing up to his unsteady legs. 'It's gonna take...a lot more than that...believe me,' he panted, barely even able to straighten.

The look on her face told him that hadn't been the smartest thing to say. She spun round, returning to the fireplace where she'd left her gun and hat and fired on him again...

This time, reality crept back in a little faster, the various pains in his body battering their way through his sensory haze and giving him a good hard slap.

He forced his eyes open, expecting to find himself secured to the bed with the companion from hell salivating by his side. Instead, he found himself still lying on the floor in the main room, and Sarayah climbing on the table with a length of rope in her hands, threading it through a pulley probably used to lift things to the storage area, which was attached to the thick beam that ran widthways across the centre of the room.

'I hoped you were beginning to understand, but you haven't learned a thing,' she ranted under her breath. 'Seems that if your friends are safe, you do not value your own life enough to comply. Well, I'm afraid that isn't good enough; it's time to step up your lessons.'

He made a pathetic attempt to back away from her as she approached, his limbs still next to useless from the pulse. She knotted one end of the rope around the bonds on his wrists, the momentary relief he felt at not having it looped around his neck soon passing when it occurred to him that the only reason she would have passed the rope over the pulley was because she needed the height.

'Maybe it would be worth remembering your friends aren't so far away that I can't still get to them, and certainly before any of your other friends reach them,' she grunted, as she knotted the rope tight between his hands.

Realising what she was about to do, Sheppard panicked. 'Please...don't...'

Her eyes snapped up to his. 'Oh, so now you can plead? Or what, John? What will you offer me to stop? More of your lies and deceit?'

He didn't reply; there was clearly no point.

'Your pleas mean nothing now. This time I will deliver a short sharp lesson to make you're more careful about the threats you throw my way...a lot more careful.'

Turning abruptly, she snatched up the other end of the rope and pulled on it, taking up the slack. With no other options left to him, Sheppard grabbed hold of the rope with his right hand, hoping to take the strain off his already fractured left forearm.

Slowly, she hauled and tugged, her physical strength and the added potency of her self-righteous anger giving her the ability to shift his unwilling weight, even if it was with much straining on her part. Sheppard tried to pull back against her, but the shots and her tortures had left him with nothing but the shakes and incredible pain, pain which multiplied as his feet final left the ground leaving all his weight hanging and partially supported by one rapidly weakening arm.

Sarayah tied off the rope around the central support strut, then pushed the table over his way, sitting on it to watch his struggle. 'I have given you chance after chance to change your ways, John, and I have tried to be patient, the Ancestors know how I've tried, but you constantly battle against me.'

Sweat burst out in huge spots on Sheppard's forehead with the effort of holding up his entire bodyweight with one arm. He hoped she would consider this punishment over soon, but suspected not. He'd threatened to break both her arms; she clearly intended to break at least one of his.

His hand, slippery with rain, mud and sweat, began to lose purchase on the rope. He muffled a cry as he felt the first slight strain on his left arm.

'When will you learn you are nothing out here in the Pegasus Galaxy, John? You are a man...nothing more. Women hold the power. Women are the creators and sustainers of life. Men, no matter how closely related to the Ancestors they claim to be, are...relatively inconsequential.'

With nothing to lose now, he took the bait. 'If I'm nothing...why is it you... can't think about...anyone else?' he challenged.

When he looked down at where she sat, she was glowering back at him, her eyes filled with hatred. How could she hate him so much and yet...his hand slipped again, and this time he couldn't suppress a whimper. She fully intended to see this through, he could see that from her face. Obsessed with him she might be, but she didn't like the fact and she meant him to pay heavily for it.

She stood up and punched him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs, but he clung on. 'So, you think you're important to me? YOU MEAN NOTHING! You're an insect to be stamped upon, a vermin to be contained. Only controlling you matters, so you cannot do to other women what you have done to me. You can think what you want of me. Your opinions mean nothing. YOU are a liar and a schemer. YOU are the one who has to feel control. I am merely the one person willing to stand up to you, to reshape you...to break you!'

Grasping his upper arm, she tugged hard and pulled his right hand from the rope, leaving him fully suspended by nothing but the bindings around his wrists. He could almost feel the slowly but surely increasing strain on his fracture as the throbbing worsened.

Then...it snapped.

His scream echoed back at him from all four walls, the pain escalating to new and unexplored levels. And still she left him hanging there.

Calm seemed to descend on her then, his agonies apparently quelling her lust for satisfaction. 'Does it hurt terribly?' she whispered, stroking his trembling face, soaked in sweat that now dripped from his chin and saturated his already damp shirt.

He flinched at the contact, unleashing another wave of agony that completely consumed him. His cries rang out again, but she didn't relent.

'I think it must.' He could hear the excitement in her voice, her breathing almost as laboured as his own as he tried to block out the worst of the pain. Her hands snaked around his waist now, sliding across the burned and clammy skin his shirt had ridden up to reveal, gripping his torso and pulling him slightly toward her. 'What would you do to make it stop?'

Her lips burned a trail up his sweat-streaked chest and neck as he ground out another cry through clenched teeth. Nothing, he told himself. If he had to hang there for the next hour...day...week, he wouldn't give her the pleasure of his compliance.

His lack of response evidently told her enough. She pushed him away, setting him swinging so he had to bite back tears. She sat down on the table again and picked up some meat, eating it casually as the swinging gradually slowed and he stopped straight in front of her.

'You're never going to admit I'm better than you, are you?' she asked.

He barely heard the question past the voice screaming in his head to give her what she wanted, to let her do whatever it took to satisfy her if only she would stop this agony. He shut it out, knowing the pain of letting her do that would far outlast this physical torment. He couldn't do it...he wouldn't do it.

'Do you think your friends enjoyed the show?' she asked, picking up the radio from beside her and checking it was still transmitting. 'Did you hear all that, Teyla...Ronon? He's strong, your leader, but even he can be made to scream. If you persist in this ridiculous attempt to save him, it will only make matters worse...for all of you.'

Closing his eyes, Sheppard sent up a silent plea to whatever powers were at work in this universe that his friends hadn't actually heard this.

Saturating with sweat and now in so much pain he was close to passing out, Sheppard felt her hands sliding up his torso again, wandering, intrusive, eventually moving up to his face and grasping it as she kissed him once again. He shut it out, now focussing on the pain instead because he feared what she was capable of with him in such a vulnerable position. When she eventually stopped...and she took her sweet time about that...it left him gasping for the air she'd denied him, his pained breaths just short gasps that lacked a satisfying supply of oxygen for his wavering brain. There was blood on her mouth as she pulled back, and only now did he realise her earlier punches had left a gash on the inside of his cheek that bled quite heavily. She hadn't given him the time to even notice.

Then, for some reason deciding he'd suffered enough, she pulled her knife from her belt and reached up to cut the rope, sending him plummeting to the floor.

The drop was so sudden he had no time to prepare and just crumpled, jarring the bones and nerves of his now completely broken arm against one another and setting free another scream as he curled around it, clutching it to his chest as best he could with his hands still bound. But she hadn't quite finished with him yet.

Grabbing his collar again, she dragged him outside and across the slick mud to a post where the villagers no doubt tethered their frenocks while waiting to use them. With little regard for the state of his arm, she wrapped yet more rope around both his wrists and then tied it tight around the post before securing his ankles, too. The rain lashed into them both, Sheppard too shocked to even contemplate fighting her now. He leaned his head against the rough post and let her tie him there – leave him there – just wanting her to stop touching him because everything hurt so much.

'Seems your friends were the only leverage I had,' she grunted as she worked, flicking her long, wet hair back over her shoulder so she could see what she was doing more easily in the appalling conditions. 'I should have brought them with us. I'm sure once I'd strung up your Satedan friend and you'd watched him kick and choke his last you would have been willing to do whatever I asked to save that disgusting little incubator he has with him.' She sat back on her haunches when it was done, grabbing his hair to lift his head while she spoke. 'Of course, there is still time to go back and get them.'

He said nothing, hoping his silence would help her to simmer down more rapidly and forget that idea. All he could think of right then was how desperate he was for Sam and Rodney to figure out the 'gate glitch so there was some chance to get home to Atlantis, however remote he was from it.

Somewhere over on his left, the anomaly sprang into life. Though he couldn't turn his head, he could see its light illuminating Sarayah's face as she watched it burn brilliantly, then disappear without trace.

'Even the Divine One itself cannot decide which of us is right or wrong,' she scoffed, tugging his sagging head up again. 'You will remain out here tonight, John, where you can contemplate your behaviour. Seems to me you elevate yourself to the level of divinity, coming here and judging me unfit. Perhaps eventually we will be judged, and we'll finally know who is in the right. I feel confident in my convictions. Do you?'

She stood up and gave him a final kick for good measure, jolting him all over again and forcing a whimper from his aching lungs, before striding back to the house where she could get warm and dry. Though he, too, longed for comfort and warmth, he figured he was safer outside braving the elements for the night after all. Leaning against the post again, he tried to find a way of immobilising his broken arm so it was protected if he was fortunate enough to fall asleep...or unconscious, which with his current shock and pain was a real possibility. There was no way that seemed to help reduce the pain much , and in the end he just settled for jamming his knees up under it so it wasn't completely suspended by the rope. It helped to support it, but the cold and driving rain exacerbated the discomfort of all his injuries and the residual stress on his body from the pulse weapon. Right then, with the rain hitting him like needles, and the wind whipping up around his saturated, trembling and muddy body, four days seemed like a lifetime to wait for the Daedalus.

He closed his eyes and let his tears get lost among the raindrops.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 **

The night seemed more silent and stifling than ever as Ronon gazed into the flames of their campfire, his appetite completely lost.

Teyla was also silent, her knees drawn in as tightly as she could, her forehead resting in her hand. He knew what was on her mind, but neither of them had dared voice it. They were to blame for whatever might be happening to Sheppard.

Eventually, Teyla spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. 'Why did I not think about the chance she would listen to our radio messages? That was obviously why she left the radio with us, knowing we would have to use it.'

'I didn't think of it either, Teyla. None of us did.'

'Secure channels are no use when someone has one of our radios. I should have ensured I spoke with Colonel Carter on a closed channel. Now our advantage is lost.'

Ronon felt his rage rising in his craw again. This woman twisted everything, made others feel as if they were to blame for her perversions. Well, he knew who was to blame.

'Don't take this on yourself, Teyla. This is her problem, not ours or Sheppard's. Like he said, he was just wrong place, wrong time. She'll have done this to men before him, and when she gets tired of him, she'll move on to someone else. This is what she does,'

Teyla nodded, but he could tell she still felt responsible for Sheppard's dilemma. 'How has she been able to bring us to this? We have been so distracted by her games that we have made simple mistakes that should have been avoided. I thought...I thought she had what she wanted now and wouldn't be listening to us so closely.'

Ronon threw a few more pieces of wood on the fire to keep the flames alive, watching the mesmerising flickers as he ran over his own capture again in his mind. 'Like Sheppard kept saying, she was playing mind games, throwing people of track, working situations to her strengths,' he grumbled. 'She knew she couldn't take us on face to face, or in the sheer numbers our party was in, so she divided us up into more manageable teams where she could pick off whoever she needed.'

'That weapon she has is certainly a great advantage,' Teyla nodded.

'Yeah...doesn't matter whether she hits you direct or not, the damn thing can still knock you senseless if you're in the vicinity. And she's used to tracking and hunting, just like we are...but I underestimated her.'

Teyla looked at him, puzzled. 'How so?'

'I've been hunted by the Wraith and won. I didn't take her seriously enough. I didn't try and hide, thought I was too fast, too experienced, just fired into the trees figuring I could hit her. Thing is, she didn't even have to make a direct hit on me first time to floor me...I never thought of that.'

'None of us would have guessed she would still have Atrascan weaponry at her disposal.'

'If I had my gun...'

'But you do not,' Teyla reminded him. 'Not that it matters; we are doubtless still too far away to make a difference, no matter what weapons we carried.'

This feeling of hopelessness was just how he'd felt when the Wraith had first set him running, and he had spent months hiding in the shadows, afraid each day might be his last. But then he'd turned things around, and he, the hunted, had become the hunter, ridding the galaxy of too many Wraith to even hope to count. They needed to do the same thing now. They needed to turn Sarayah's own game around on her.

'Maybe there's something we can do about that,' he mused, and idea forming in his mind. 'She's arrogant, thinks she's superior...especially to men...I think we may be able to use the mistake with the radios to our advantage.'

'How? I do not understand.'

For the first time in days, Ronon began to smile. 'Remember I said I wished we could find a truck? Well, we say we did, and weapons, and we're going after her in the morning.'

'But we have none of those things. How will that help?'

'Whenever we face her, we have to do it with whatever supplies we have,' Ronon pointed out. 'This way, at least it's on our terms. And if I play it right, make out I'm gonna do her some serious damage when I get my hands on her, I reckon she might just wanna come out here and teach me a lesson.'

'And it might just be enough to unnerve her into making a mistake,' she nodded, catching onto his idea.

'That's what I'm hoping. We shake her up – she messes up.'

But after a moment's though, uncertainty crept back into Teyla's expression. 'I do not know, Ronon.' What if she simply turns her anger on John as she threatened to earlier?'

'I've known people like her. I'm betting she won't be able to resist the challenge...especially knowing how much it'll hurt Sheppard if she takes me down.'

Teyla eyes brightened at that. 'You think she will bring John with her?'

'Would you leave someone like Sheppard behind if you had him prisoner?' Ronon grinned, and he could see Teyla knew he was right; Sarayah would not allow Sheppard that far out of her sight.

'Very well. Let me speak to Colonel Carter first on a closed channel and alert her to our plans. Then, we will set the trap and hope she cannot resist.'

'I'll make it so there's no way she can,' Ronon assured her warming his hands over the flames. Tomorrow, they would face her once and for all. This time, more prepared, and with deception on their side, he was determined not to fail.

The wind whistled through the boards of the door and set it rattling on the latch. Feeling the encroaching cold more deeply since getting wet, Sarayah threw a few more logs onto the fire and poked them into prime position to keep it burning. She had been in two minds whether or not to put the wooden bar across the door for some time now, but she hadn't decided whether she should go back out and retrieve her wily prisoner yet. He hadn't struggled when she'd left him, and something about that reaction told her he thought he had a better chance of escape if he was out there, despite the awful conditions and the punishment he'd taken. And perhaps he did, even though he no longer has the ignition card. But what she did know was if she kept him inside the building and he escaped while she slept – and sleep she knew she must because she'd had so little rest for days now – he would undoubtedly kill her in her bed.

She watched him a while longer, his huddled form distorted through the pressed glass and streaks of rain, before finally making peace with the idea of leaving Sheppard outside for the night and heaving the thick wooden bar across the door. It occurred to her as she secured the last set of shutters that there could be another of those ferocious animals lurking out there, and if there was the man would be a very easy meal. Horrific as that thought was to her, she left the bar where it was. He needed to be punished. He had to learn that the only way to avoid such harsh treatment was to bend to her will. A man like that would remain a menace to the peoples of the Pegasus Galaxy until he understood his place. Much as she felt it her place to teach him, if he learned his lesson at the jaws of a hungry beast, so be it.

Picking up the radio she had set beside the window, she headed to the bedroom. Since childhood she had been a light sleeper, never needing much more than three hours unless ill, but those short sleeps were vital, so a few hours now would replenish her strength enough to face the next day. As she lay back and tried to relax, the radio sprang into life beside her.

'_Colonel Carter, this is Ronon.'_

'_Ronon, good to hear from you. How're you feeling?'_

'_I'm good. Just wanted to update you on what we've found...a vehicle and a small cache of weapons...seems Sarayah wasn't the only one to sneak supplies onto the planet. Someone else came prepared for trouble.'_

Sarayah rolled her head toward the radio, staring at it as she listened on.

'_A vehicle? Is it working?'_ she heard the one called Carter ask.

'_Seems to be. Don't know how well yet, but we'll find out in the morning. Teyla and I plan to set out along the migration route at sunrise, and we'll keep going as long as the truck will, or until we find Sheppard. Then, I'm gonna make Sarayah sorry she took me on. I'm ready to get me a piece of Medulsan.'_

No mention of what she'd done to Sheppard, and despite her threats they were still making plans to come after him. They hadn't heard anything she'd done. Snatching up the radio, Sarayah was tempted to shout into it that he could hunt if he wanted to, but he would never find them, then checked herself. No, she would not let them know she had heard their plans. She would listen and then rest, just as she had originally planned. If they were not setting out until the sunrise, that was more than enough time for her to sleep and think through the best way to tackle this problem.

'_Ronon, be careful. You need to stay focused to make this work. Hopefully you'll be bringing Colonel Sheppard back to safety very soon. Now get some rest and let me know when you're setting off.'_

'_Will do. I'm savin' all my energies to show that woman what a mistake she made leavin' me alive.'_

It seemed Sheppard's friend was as stubborn as he was. Did he really think he could track her down and kill her that easily? She had been hunting and controlling men since he was losing his first teeth. She lay back staring up at the ceiling in the light of her oil lamp, feeling her ire begin to boil over. Who were these men to think they could dictate how she should behave? Men were violent and naturally oppressive in nature; what she did simply redressed the balance. On Medulsa, the men had been ruthless in the extreme until the women had revolted. Was revenge for such heartlessness really something to be frowned upon when womankind on Medulsa had been subjugated for so long? Only in the eyes of a man, she suspected.

It wasn't long before her mind wandered to the man tied up outside. She could hear the rain bouncing off the windowpanes, and the cooler air of the bedroom bit at her skin with its tiny, icy teeth. Pulling the blankets up tighter around her neck, she tried to ignore the nagging knot of fear in her stomach – not fear of Sheppard's friends, but fear of losing him. Since the first day she'd set eyes on him in the underground holding cells on Medulsa, she had not been able to think of anything other than possessing him. He pushed her, pushed her to the absolute boundaries of her patience, and now, leaving him outside in the terrible storm, clearly in shock and with possible vicious predators in the vicinity – that frightened her. But he had to be taught the error of his ways. He had to understand that what she was teaching him was meant to benefit everyone, including him. If his current behaviour had led to the early awakening of the Wraith, he couldn't be allowed to continue to trample across the galaxy creating havoc for the indigenous populations. She truly believed, after three years of contemplation, that their paths had crossed for a reason. She was meant to control him, and it was a job she would see through to the end.

The bed felt very empty beside her now. She had slept there beside him last night, listening to his laboured breathing and his heartbeat, enjoying the warmth of his body beside hers. Tonight, she missed that, craving more of the small taster of proximity she'd enjoyed. She had forced herself to practice restraint, stroking his hair and the skin on his side and back, stealing kisses, but going no further. If he wasn't fully awake, there was no challenge to it, and the physical contact, though pleasurable, came to nothing without his reactions. Control could not be instigated over someone unconscious of your presence. But the smoothness of the skin on his sides had surprised her, feeling as satiny as some of the finest materials she had ever seen offered in trade. It made her sad that she'd left permanent marks on his back, welts that she could trace with her fingertips even in the dark, and now he would bear more scars. Despite that he was physically perfect – strong, lean, athletic – and his spirit was admirable, if misdirected. He truly was utterly fascinating.

_If I'm nothing, why is it you can't think about anyone else?_

His challenge repeated over in her head. He was right of course. She'd spat those words in anger at yet another rejection. For her, he was far from nothing – he was everything, and had been for the past three years. She might want to possess him, but in reality _he_ had possessed _her._..though she'd sworn as a young girl that no man ever would. The hold he had on her was dangerous. And that was why she had to break him, one bone at a time if that was what it took.

Then it occurred to her that his friends might have lied...or might even change their minds. What if they set off sooner than they'd said and took him while she slept? That Satedan would slit her throat where she lay, and she would not give him that satisfaction.

Climbing back out of bed, she carried the radio out to the main room and sat by the window, watching Sheppard through the gas in the shutters to ensure he remained right where she wanted him. Sleep would have to wait. Right now, she had plans to make before his friends turned up to save him.

oooOOOooo

Having caught sleep in only the briefest of snatches, and having had no luck whatsoever in loosening off his restraining bindings, Sheppard made it through what had to stand as one of the longest nights of his life. The rain had ceased after a couple of hours, but as he'd sat trembling in the darkness, jumping at every single sound, and with his pain a constant companion, he'd dried out very little in the crisp air. He was actually surprised he hadn't turned into a Popsicle...perhaps he had; the cold certainly seemed to have penetrated right through to his bones.

The first fingers of sun clambering up over the horizon had woken him from the longest period of sleep he'd managed, which had more than likely been a bout of unconsciousness rather than genuinely beneficial rest. With that daylight had come a sudden spell of activity from Sarayah.

First, she'd driven the eight-wheeled Atrascan vehicle to the front of the building within a few feet of the door, and then she had proceeded to load the vehicle with various boxes from inside. Not once did she stop to look his way, though he was certain she must have at least checked he was still there, probably from inside before beginning her frenetic packing session. It seemed they would be on the move soon. He hoped she'd taken his warning about the climate seriously, or his current temperature would probably feel almost tropical.

Eventually, after some considerable time, she stomped his way, quickly cutting the ropes holding him there with her ever-ready knife. This morning, she wore not only his shirt and the Atrascan sonic defence hat, but his tac-vest with his P-90 and radio clipped to it, just the way he and the other off-world teams from Atlantis wore them. 'Get in the truck,' she ordered, her face a mask of controlled anger.

He looked up at her, noticing how tired she looked and wondering how the hell he was supposed to get off the floor without aggravating his arm. He got onto his knees and pushed up using his legs alone while holding his left arm to his chest with his right. 'S...surprised you don't want...m...me to help you...pack,' he grunted, giving her a death glare. She gave him a shove, and he gritted his teeth through a stab of pain. 'Where are w...we going anyway?' he asked. 'You r...remember we c...can't head further north, r...right?'

She shoved him again, his feet slipping on the soggy ground. Since he had no desire to fall and make his injury even more unbearable, he decided heading for the truck was a good option. He managed to haul himself in with one arm, wincing as his unsupported limb shifted and the bones rated against raw nerves again. He pressed his lips together hard and rode the crest of the agony until it settled again.

Sarayah slammed the door behind him and strode round to the driver's door, reaching behind her seat and passing him the splint Keller had given him to support his then comparatively minor injury. It was cleaner, but stained and still damp, though not dripping wet, so she'd clearly tried to dry it out, just as she had the shirt. He pushed his sleeve up, looking at his arm for the first time since she'd cut him down last night. It was misshapen with swelling and blackened by deep bruising, completely useless for purposes of defence...or attack. Dammit! Why had he pushed her so far? Now he'd handicapped himself to the point he would struggle to act effectively if he needed to. If he'd just been able to push down his sensibilities long enough to satisfy her for one night, today he might have been able to make a break for it. But no, he couldn't have done it. No matter how often he told himself it was just a physical thing, he didn't have to be emotional invested – that he could have blocked it, just like he blocked out so many things that hurt him – he knew the truth was he would have fought her all the way. And she would have done whatever it took to make him compliant.

_Whatever it took. _That was the point at which he remembered her threat from the night before. It wasn't too late to go back and take out Ronon and Teyla.

Certain he'd worked out her plans, he asked again, 'So, where are we going?'

'Somewhere you can't lie and cheat your way out of,' she growled.

'I don't understand. What are you saying?'

She stopped slamming around in the cab and turned her fierce gaze on him. 'I thought you were more honourable than this, John. Back in that barn with your friends you promised to hand yourself to me and pay the price. But you haven't even begun to atone. I was right to think a threat to your friends was the way to make you comply, but I was wrong to think you would honour your word when they were no longer under threat.'

'I _did _honour my word. I'm here – what more was I supposed to do?'

'Pay for what you did,' she replied flatly, pulling a syringe from her pocket. 'So now your friends will. We're heading south...to meet them on the trail. Apparently they have transport; I just wonder if it's able to withstand the level of weaponry this one is.'

His eyes fell on the sedative. She was going to knock him out. He had to talk her out of it so he could help Ronon and Teyla. 'There's no need for that stuff,' he pleaded. 'You can see I'm in no condition to fight back.'

He sat there, trembling with cold, weak from shock and in agony from his various injuries, looking as pitiful as he possible could in an attempt to convince her of the fact, but she wasn't buying it. Her eyes hardened, her jaw setting firm.

'That's usually when you prove to be at your most dangerous,' she pointed out. 'I want you out while we drive so,' she tossed the syringe over to him, 'use that, or I'll put a couple of bullets in you. Either way, I intend you not to give me any further trouble. The choice of how that happens is yours to make, but that's the only leeway I'm granting you.'

Sheppard looked down at the syringe sitting in his lap, then back at the Medulsan aiming his P-90 at him through the truck door. 'Look, my team are just doing what they're trained to do. We don't leave men behind. Gimme the radio and I'll call 'em off myself.'

She shook her head, her scowl deepening. 'No communications between you and them. I know you're smart, John. You'll use some kind of code to let them know we're coming for them and they'll be prepared. I intend to take decisive action this time, no matter what you offer me. If you're good, you'll lose just one friend today and I'll bring the other back with us...but only if you're _really_ good.'

There was a kind of conviction in her expression that told him she had set her mind on killing someone just to hurt him. Swallowing hard, Sheppard tried one last time to talk her out of it. 'I won't use code; you can even dictate what I say to them.'

She hesitated, perhaps seeing the same conviction in his expression, but then she raised her weapon, holding it steady with both hands. 'No more lies,' she replied. 'Use that syringe or I shoot you somewhere painful, but non-lethal.'

So, reluctant to have any more injuries inflicted on him, he chose the syringe, surreptitiously squirting some of the dose down the side of his seat as he struggled to move his broken limb into a position for the jab. He'd lost about a third of the dose, but it was as much as he dared to for fear she would notice a bigger difference.

'What are you doing? Let me see that needle in your arm.'

He inserted it quickly and turned toward her so she could watch him administer what was left in the cylinder.

He injected the rest into himself, feeling the relaxing effect almost instantly because of his poor state of health. The sound of the syringe dropping to the floor near his feet told him he'd already lost the use of his one good hand, and the sensation of the cab rocking in amongst all the swirling of the drugs and the distant echoey clang of metal he just barely recognised as the door closing behind her told him they would soon be on their way.

All he could do now was hope he'd dumped enough of the sedative to mean he would wake in time to do something before they got to his friends. It was the only possible advantage he might have to work with.

The low rumbled of an engine began to filter through the haze of Sheppard's foggy brain, throwing him into confusion. Where was he? What the hell was he doing in a truck? Thankfully, reality struck him hard, sharpening his focus as the truck hit a bump and his agonising arm injury reminded him exactly what he'd been through and where he was now headed. He clenched his jaw to stop himself crying out and tried to figure out what position he was sitting in. Unlike vehicles back home, the Atrascan vehicle was a right hand drive, and he figured out he was leaning against the window to his left, his face turned away from her, and he was covered in a blanket. She cared enough to try to keep him warm? That was just weird.

Opening his eyes just a slit to peer out of the window, he found they were driving through unfamiliar territory, the ground here far drier than where they'd set off from. A sly glance at his watch told him almost three hours had passed since he'd taken the drug, and the fact they were still moving suggested, at least he hoped it suggested, that they hadn't yet run into Teyla and Ronon and whatever vehicle they'd managed to find. He felt certain she would hang back and wait for him to wake before tackling them. She would want the death of at least one of his friends to have the biggest impact possible on him after all, and that couldn't happen if he was asleep through it.

Suddenly, Sarayah spoke, obviously to herself because her voice was low and she didn't let on that she knew he was awake. 'Ah, there you are, you idiots. Not too far away now. So...you don't have a vehicle after all. Did it break down, or was it all a lie? You don't seem to have made much progress if you were driving.'

No vehicle and not much progress? Had they lied about having a vehicle? Had they done it to draw her out? Was that the real reason she was gunning for them now? That made sense, and sounded like the kind of thing Ronon might try if he thought it would get Sarayah close enough to tackle.

A strange whining sound from the engine sent Sarayah off on a very different rant all together. 'Oh, no you don't. Don't you dare break down on me now!' he heard her slam her hands against the steering wheel, and pressed his lids shut in case this sudden change in luck made her look over his way. A repeat of the noise sent her into a long stream of words he'd never heard before, but which he had no doubt had their Earth-based equivalents when spat in that way.

'All right. If you insist on being like that, we'll take a short break!' she hissed, screeching the truck to a halt and throwing open the door to leap out, before slamming it in anger. He heard her footsteps moving round to the front of the truck, then a creak that told him she'd popped the hood and was examining the overworked components housed beneath it.

Having focused all his energies on not screaming his lungs out when he bumped his arm on stopping, Sheppard now dared to look around and find out what kind of trouble he was in. She'd bound his wrists while unconscious, so no movement of his remaining useful arm came without the nerve grating pain of his broken one, but he wasn't about to let that slow him if this was his opportunity to act.

He worked his way up straight while shielded from view by the hood, checking the ignition card slot and finding it empty. But of course it would be, since when was his luck that good?

More curses came from the engine compartment, along with some serious clanging and rattling. She was losing her cool out there; did he really intend to choose this moment as his time to make a stand? His eyes drifted to the dashboard and spotted the ignition card lying there where she'd evidently tossed it after turning off the engine...she was tired, irritated, and she'd made a mistake. Yeah, he figured it maybe was time to act.

Gritting his teeth, he reached out and grabbed the card, steering it shakily into the waiting slot, then allowed himself a moment to breathe again before taking the final step. Sarayah continued to grumble and work under the hood, doing who knew what damage out there since he seriously doubted she knew anything about Atrascan automotive mechanics. Of course, if she'd pulled out or broken anything vital, there was a chance the engine wouldn't even turn over when he tried it, but try it he had to. If what she'd been saying was true, Ronon and Teyla weren't far from their current position, so this was probably the one and only opportunity he was going to have to reach them first and join them against her.

He slid himself into position behind the wheel, just as Sarayah gave up on her efforts and dropped the hood back into place.

Their eyes locked just for a moment, then Sheppard slammed his hand into the ignition button, fired the engine, and floored the accelerator before she had chance to react.

His anguished cry almost drowned out the thud of the front of the truck hitting his captor – almost, but not quite. With tears streaming down his face he kept the pedal to the floor, throwing up a filthy cloud as he wheel-spun out of there and left her in the dirt. As the billowing dust cleared, he looked back out the rear window to see her lying still on the ground.

Much as it hurt, he steered that truck with his bound arms and kept going, determined not to stop until he had left Sarayah far behind him. He peered back again, to his horror spotting her roll onto her side, though she still didn't rise.

'You have got to be kidding!' he screamed, cursing himself for not reversing over her and making sure of the job. Clearly, he'd been too close to hit her hard enough to keep her down. Should he go back and try again? Yes, he probably should, but he'd already put several hundred yards between them, and he had all the provisions she'd packed other than whatever she'd had on her when he'd run her down. Some crazy notion that she would somehow grab onto the vehicle and attack him when he least expected it nagged at the back of his mind, forming his final decision to just keep going. The in-built scanners showed two life signs on the road ahead of him that he assumed would be his friends. At least he hoped so, and they weren't actually a couple of those huge bear-like monsters out on the hunt.

He would keep going and pick them up, then even if the crazy bitch was still crawling after him with two broken legs and half her face hanging off, she wouldn't get to them. He just had to keep going, that was all.

So, not even daring to stop long enough to cut his broken arm free, he kept his foot down and left his tormentor far behind him.

**A/N: Woohoo! Sheppard's on his way back to his friends and Sarayah's eating dirt! But can it really be that easy? Thanks for all the comments. Keep them coming, I really appreciate them. :D**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28 **

Rodney tried once again – unsuccessfully – to re-route power from the systems at the Ancient facility to fire up the full database of information. After so many hours of work on both his and Sam's part, it was endlessly irritating, and he once again slammed his hand against the screens refusing to give him access to the files he felt sure they were keeping something vital from them.

'This is ridiculous,' he spat. 'There's something we're missing and these damn machines will just not give it up.'

'And you think hitting it is going to help?' Sam asked.

'It might!' he fumed. 'Let's face it; it's about as much use as anything else we've tried.'

Pushing her fringe back from her face with a sigh, Sam positioned herself between him and the control panels, planting herself in his path. 'These machines are our friends, Rodney. I wouldn't let Lisso break them, and I'm not about to let you do it, either.'

Rodney relaxed his stance, allowing himself to calm down again. 'I'm sorry. I just hate the fact I can't do anything to help knowing Ronon and Teyla are going up against Sarayah any time.'

She smiled and nodded. 'I understand, Rodney. I was part of a team like yours for a long time, remember? You make connections, develop bonds, and pretty soon you realise you'd do anything to help them.'

'Except this time I've failed,' he whimpered. 'Sheppard was relying on me to fix this thing to get us all away from Sarayah, and I let him down.'

She grabbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 'You have not let him down, Rodney, and I doubt that thought has even crossed John's mind. It's not like this stuff is simple. Ancient technology is advanced; you can't expect to figure it out in minutes every time.'

'No, I guess not,' he said quietly, feeling utterly dejected. But Sam didn't really understand his problem. She was lucky, not only was she a brilliant astrophysicist, almost as smart as him, in fact, but she could fly pretty much as well as Sheppard, and hold her own in combat. This was all he had. If he couldn't fix the technical problems, he was no use to anyone.

'I think you need some time away from this. Let's take a walk,' she suggested.

'Walking is not going to get this fixed!' he protested, but she took hold of his upper arm and steered him away out of the building regardless.

'You need to clear your head, Rodney, then the answer might just come to you.'

They took a stroll under the thankfully cloudy sky. No sun meant it was cooler this morning, and lower outside temperature always helped him to keep his blood pressure in check. The rolling landscape surrounding them was peaceful; no armed Frahs heading their way that he could see. He'd always enjoyed the peace of countryside, but right now he didn't mind the idea of never seeing another field or tree again. If they got home – when they got home – he intended to cuff himself to his workstation and refuse to go off world again for at least a month...maybe more.

'I've been thinking...this gate problem reminds me of the time when General O'Neill and I got stranded up at McMurdo. You remember, that time when a solar flare sent us to the undiscovered 'gate at Antarctica?'

'Sure, I read the file,' he nodded, his brain instantly recalling the details of the report.

'When Colonel Sheppard took you over the planet on your arrival, did you spot anything in your scans that might have indicated a second 'gate?'

He cast his mind back, but the scans hadn't shown any significant naquadah readings anywhere but around the gate they knew of. 'No, I'm pretty sure there isn't another gate here, but even if there were, the gate we arrived by has to be the primary gate. We came through it, you came through it, and Lorne has sent through too many supplies and communications via the same gate for it to be the result of a flare –'

'I know,' she interrupted. 'I'm not suggesting this situation is exactly the same , but we know they were experimenting on powering the gate in different ways, so maybe they did have another gate here once and...somehow...the DHD is still trying to connect to that one.'

'You're speculating now, right?' he snorted, giving her a dubious look.

'Come on, McKay. It's possible, isn't it?'

'Not according to any 'gate physics I know, no!'

He saw her set her jaw, shaking her head angrily. 'Rodney, there is something very strange going on here, you know that as well as I do or we would have figured this out by now. We have to start thinking outside the box or by the time the Daedalus gets here, there might be no one left to pick up.'

'Wh...what do you mean?'

'Well, considering Ronon and Teyla are on their way to tackle Sarayah, and some of the villagers are pretty keen that we don't get the gate working, we're pretty much surviving on borrowed time, don't you think?'

'Even if we fix the gate, that won't help Ronon, Teyla and Sheppard. They're still hundreds of miles from here.'

'One step at a time, Rodney. First we need to get the gate operational, then we'll see if we can figure out a way of protecting the jumpers against the anomaly. Maybe the shields will be enough, who knows, but right now I'm not prepared to bring through any more personnel until I know there's some way off this planet again. After all, if that anomaly homes in on space craft of any kind, we might not be able to bring the Daedalus close enough to beam anyone off Guedeseo.'

'This is nuts!' he cried, grabbing two handfuls of his hair in despair. 'How did things get so screwed up here? The minute I manage to dial that gate back to Atlantis, I am –'

They both jumped as the anomaly fired up no more than ten yards away from them. The rushing sound and the fluctuations in its surface suddenly seemed oddly familiar at this new and increased proximity.

He turned to look at Sam, finding her huge eyes gazing back at him in utter disbelief. 'Is that what I think it is?' he asked.

'Yeah, Rodney. I think it is.'

They both stood completely still, holding their breath while they studied it as if even that small shift of air might make it disappear. A few seconds later it was gone again.

'Th...that was a...a...'

'Stargate, yes, Rodney. But a highly unstable one by the look of it.'

'Yeah, totally unstable,' he agreed. 'But...it was like I just thought about it and...and it appeared. How does that work?'

'I don't know. What exactly were you thinking?' Sam asked him.

'Well,' he circled the air with is index finger as if it helped him to remember. 'I was just thinking about how important it was to fix the gate so we could dial up Atlantis.'

The anomaly sprang up again, more or less the same distance away. He felt his jaw drop a few inches.

Somewhere of in the back of his bamboozled brain, he heard Sam ask, 'What exactly were you thinking right at the moment it appeared?'

'I was picturing dialling Atlantis,' he told her, staring agape at the twisting, turning, fluctuating event horizon in front of them, 'and then there it was.'

It disappeared again, just as quickly.

'This is amazing. It's some kind of thought activated Stargate,' Sam gushed. 'Let me try.'

She closed her eyes and concentrated, but nothing happened. Rodney watched her frown deepen as she tried harder, but the anomaly didn't appear. Still, it did give him a chance to get a good look at her sexy concentration face.

When it was clear her attempt was doomed to failure, Sam opened her eyes again. 'Apparently it doesn't always work...'

A thought struck him, setting his fingers clicking as it formulated into coherence. 'What if it only works for people with the ATA gene? That would explain why it took down the jumper when Lieutenant Stevens tried to dial it up. And why it appeared several times for Sheppard...he must have really wanted to get off this planet...'

'I can imagine he did. But why hasn't it appeared while you've been working on things?'

He shrugged. 'Well, it might have had something to do with my...slightly negative nature,' he ventured.

'You didn't think the 'gate would open.'

'No...not really,' he replied, looking sheepish.

'Try it one more time, Rodney, so we can be certain it wasn't just as coincidence.'

He closed his eyes and visualised his hand hitting the symbols for their Atlantis home. To his left, he heard the anomaly fire up again. They had it. They'd finally made a real break-through.

'I guess that would be our primary gate,' he breathed, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

'It would seem so,' Sam nodded. 'Somehow, this spontaneously generating 'gate is overriding the connection to the actual 'gate from this side. Probably because of the mental component of its operation.'

'But what about before we came here? The Divinity has supposedly been judging the guilty of this planet for years,' Rodney pondered. 'Does that mean there's an Ancient living here somewhere?'

'Either that, or there's a fault in the programming that makes it fire up randomly without the need for an actual thought to operate it. Perhaps the dial command it locked into its systems.'

'Well whatever the reason, things just got a whole lot easier. If we can cut power to whatever programme is generating that 'gate, we should be able to dial home, and bring a jumper through to launch a rescue mission.'

Sam's grin was as bright as he'd ever seen it. 'You're right. So let's get back in there and disconnect the power.'

Rodney knew that would be easier said than done to locate the exact power relay to such a previously unimaginable project, especially since they had a room full of tech and only a partially explained experiment. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel now. It seemed he might be able to help Sheppard and his other friends after all.

oooOOOooo

'You useless piece of crap!' Sheppard yelled, kicking one of the solid rubber tyres of the truck so hard it made his foot painful to walk on. 'Genius, John. And how exactly is that going to help?' he asked himself, hobbling around to the front of the truck and lifting the hood with more than a modicum of pain for his efforts. He was greeted by a blast of heat and a face full of smoke, which did little for the feverish nausea already nagging at him.

'Well, that's just great,' he grunted, waiting for the worst of the acrid smoke to blow away before leaning in to examine the engine. Everything he tried to touch was red hot, and he suspected the thing had simply overheated and was as desperately in need of water as he was. 'Trust that stupid...Medulsan to go wreck a perfectly good vehicle.'

He forced the vehicle on as far as he could, begging it to just keep going until he met his friends at least, but at the stop of a rise it had finally choked and sputtered his last. Of course, there was still a chance it would work if he could figure out which one was the water tank and get some in there. He headed to the back of the truck and opened the rear doors, climbing in and grating out a scream with pain the effort ignited in him. Every inch of him ached, and his burns, cuts bruises, plus the broken bone meant he literally pulsed with agony each time he moved. He rolled onto his back and caught his breath, feeling the increase in sweat and heart rate just that small amount of activity had caused.

'Come on, John. You can do this!' he urged himself, rolling onto his knees and shuffling toward the supplied stacked in there with him.

Sure enough, Sarayah had packed some huge demijohns of water – at least he hoped it was water and she hadn't been planning to get him drunk again. His arm throbbed at the mere memory of the last time.

But he couldn't do a thing with the water, or anything else for that matter, until he got his hands free. So, he started hunting through the various boxes in there as best he could, gritting his teeth against the pain, finding spare clothing and various other hygiene items stacked chaotically in the first. Though he would have dearly loved to change his filthy attire, he doubted it would be possible without a great deal of pain on his part, not to mention the valuable time it would waste. So instead, he hunted out and found where Sarayah had stashed all the weapons she'd collected from him and his friends, pulling out his knife and severing his bonds before cutting up the fabric of a shirt to fashion himself a sling, clenching his jaw and blinking away his pained tears as he worked. It wasn't easy, particularly the part where he had to knot the two ends together with one hand and his teeth, but he managed it. The fit wasn't exactly perfect, but it made keeping his arm still while he continued the hunt for other things much easier, reducing the discomfort just a little.

That done, he slid one of the jars to the back of the truck, jumped down, swore profusely at the jolt, then swung the jar down to the ground. It was heavy, and he wasn't sure if he could lift the thing one-handed even if it did contain water. Crouching down, he jammed the jar between his knees, and tugged out the stopper. It was water all right, with a slight taint of wine. Evidently she'd emptied the jar of its original contents so she could transport some water with them for emergencies. He figured this qualified as one, so dragged the vessel to the front of the truck and tried his damnedest to lift it, realising even if he could locate the filler cap, there was absolutely no way he could get the damned jar up to it. So he was going to have to do it a cup at a time, was he? That figured.

He hoisted himself back into the truck to see what he could find. He located a ramp wedged in behind the boxes on the left of the truck that would make it easier for him to get in and out, but try as he might, he just didn't have the energy to free it from its position there. So, he went back to hunting for something that would help with the water problem. Eventually, he located a tin cup rattling around in one of the wooden crates and headed back out to try to utilise it. After several failed attempts and more water spilled than had made it into the cup, Sheppard gave up. The demijohn was just too big to handle with one arm. With a sigh, he leaned back against the front grill, burning his backside in the process because it was so hot. He swore, batting at his seat to ensure he wasn't in flames, then sat down in the dirt to mull over his options.

Okay, he figured he had three ways to go as he slugged back the tiny amount of water he'd managed to throw into the cup. The first was to keep trying to fill the cup, and thus the system, until he thought there was enough water in there to keep him going for a while. The trouble was, at the rate he was spilling it, he might well run out of water before there was enough in the truck to do any good. Second, he could set off on foot to see if he could reach Teyla and Ronon that way. Safety in numbers as the old adage said. The scanner had said they were only a six or seven miles away now, and with them heading his way, the distance was shrinking all the time. With luck, they would be together in less than half an hour. With luck...

Thirdly, and this really wasn't his favoured option even as he thought of it, he could just sit it out until the engine cooled down and hope it would start and keep going for the rest of the journey. He was on the main migration trail, so Ronon and Teyla would find him eventually, but he couldn't guarantee they would get to him before Sarayah would...if she was back on her feet. He estimated he'd driven somewhere in the region of three miles before the truck had given up the ghost – it wasn't far enough for him to feel safe about waiting there.

He leaned over to his right, peering back past the truck to the horizon where he thought he could see something moving. When he squinted, he realised he'd been mistaken, and it was probably just an after effect of the drugs. Even though he did eventually almost convince himself that Sarayah wasn't like the hot robot chick from Terminator 3, image courtesy of Keller's description, he still couldn't shake the feeling she was heading his way. Still watching him.

The truck had been just too close to gain the momentum needed to finish her off, and he cursed himself again now for not taking the time to go back and actually run her over. Then, deciding he was starting to sound like McKay with his panicking and regrets, he decided it was time to pull himself together and make a choice. So, he decided his best option was to set off to meet Ronon and Teyla. But first, he needed supplies.

He hauled his battered body into the back of the truck for the third and what he hoped would be last time, heading straight to the weapons he'd uncovered before. Ronon's blaster, Teyla's P-90 and side arm, Ronon's sword and various knives from all three of them lay there. But the sonic weapon, his side arm and his own P-90 were missing. That meant she'd probably had them with her when he'd run her down. Not to worry, with Ronon's gun and Teyla's 9-mil and P-90 he was a match for her...except he only had one good hand. Dammit!

Okay, so he couldn't use all the guns, but he was damn well sure he wasn't leaving them there for her to find. So, he dug out a thigh holster, and with much stressing and straining, managed to secure it to his leg, sliding the side arm in. Then he tied a long strip of shirt to the P-90 and slung it over his shoulder, and Ronon's gun he could carry. He'd always loved shooting that thing.

At the bottom of the box he found something else, something that instantly chilled his blood. It was a whip, handmade from what materials she'd been able to lay her hands on, with several straps studded with hand-crafted nails, their tips hammered over to hold them firmly in place. 'Vicious bitch.' He shuddered to think of the damage that thing would have done, even happier now that he'd taken his chance to escape when he had. Tossing it aside, he continued his search.

Next he found the food supplies, his canteen of water, still half-full, and some power bars, evidently taken from all three of them again. He quickly ate two of them, ravenously hungry as he was after the abandoned meal of the previous evening, then pocketed the others, along with an extra clip of bullets for the P-90 he'd dug out. He considered tipping the water from his canteen into the engine, but it really wasn't that much and he doubted it would help. If it didn't, that left him with no transport or water. No, the water came with him. The canteen strap went round his neck and he was good to go.

Shoved down the side of one crate was Teyla's over-sized tac-vest, so he searched out some Tylenol and swallowed two down with the aid of a decent slug of water. But the real boon was finding his boots lying beneath it. He slipped them on, but couldn't lace them, having to settle for pulling the laces as tight as possible and tucking them inside so he didn't trip.

With all that done, he looked out of the back of the truck at the horizon again, his eyes tricking him into thinking he could once again see movement. He held his breath and watched a while, but there was nothing there after all. His paranoia was getting to be a problem. He couldn't let this woman spook him; it wasn't like he hadn't been up against worse. Even so, he seriously hoped Carter and McKay had got the gate up and running so they could dial Atlantis and get out of there soon.

Right in front of him, only a few feet away, the anomaly appeared as if from nowhere. At this proximity he recognised something in its tumultuous form, a soft blue light, and water like rippling, constantly twisting and turning in on itself that reminded him of the Stargate. Was that what it was? It kind of looked that way. How the hell could a Stargate just materialise out of nothing? He jumped down, this time ignoring the jolt of pain it caused, and walked cautiously toward it. It even sounded a little like the 'gate, though oddly distorted by the erratic movements.

He reached out toward it, snatching his hand back just before it disappeared from sight. What the hell had that been all about? Why was there some kind of itinerant wormhole jumping about all over the planet? He thought back to each time he'd seen it, realising then that every time it had appeared, he'd been thinking about dialling home. Was it possible the thing was reacting to those thoughts? The Atlantis database had never thrown out any kind of info about a mind-reading gate because, if it had, McKay would have dragged him down to the labs and insisted they check it out.

Not sure what any of this meant for their chances of getting home, he decided to put his plan into action, pulling out the truck's key card and heading south along the migration path on foot, his boots flapping, but at least giving the soles of his feet some protection from the rocky ground. He would meet up with his friends pretty soon...if he didn't trip over his own laces too often.

oooOOOooo

Ronon stood by, scouring the landscape for signs of activity as Teyla say and took some rest. She was exhausted after a full day of walking yesterday, and her feet and ankles had swollen a little again making her shoes an uncomfortably tight fit. Still, she knew the importance of their mission and would not give up, loosening them off as she prepared to set out once again.

'Maybe you should stay here,' Ronon suggested again. 'We could make you a shelter, I could leave you most of the supplies, you'd be okay for a few days. Right?'

She lifted her gaze from the ankle she was rubbing to look at him. 'And let you face Sarayah alone?'

He smirked. 'I won't be alone. Sheppard'll be there.'

Unimpressed with his bravado, she simply arched an eyebrow. 'We have no idea what condition John will be in when we do eventually encounter her. You can't guarantee he will be in a fit state to assist you.'

'What and you are?'

Her jaw tightened defensively. 'I am pregnant, not sick, Ronon.'

'But you have to put the baby first. You wouldn't be able to throw yourself into a fight the way you used to.'

'I still might be more able to fight than he is,' she told him. 'Besides, what if something were to happen to you at her hands? What then of me? I would not know and would be left here alone, wondering what had become of you.'

'The Daedalus would come by and pick you up –'

'Before Sarayah got to me...I think not.'

Ronon's green eyes held hers, and she could see his determination to get to the woman and teach her she couldn't mess with his friends. She understood that need only too well. She felt the same way about Michael, whom she knew had taken her people prisoner to carry out who knew what sort of unspeakable experiments on. 'You must find a way to control your anger, Ronon,' she warned him. 'Unbridled against someone like her, it will only bring you trouble.'

'What do you mean, someone like her?' he asked, frowning his confusion.

'You know Sarayah is manipulative, capable of using your strengths against you, as well as your fears. Sometimes, you let your anger blind you, Ronon. And that is when she is most likely to strike.'

'She won't get the better of me a second time,' he assured her.

But she wasn't happy with the arrogance of his self-assuredness. 'Be certain she doesn't, as I am certain it will be the last time if she does. It would be best not to underestimate her again.'

The sun was just beginning to break through the cloud cover they had been cast under that morning, bringing with it some pleasant warmth. Teyla had noticed the ever decreasing temperatures as they journeyed, wondering how cold the north of this planet got while the south enjoyed its milder summer. She remembered Rodney had said something about the extreme seasons of this world, and felt glad to recall that John had once told her he liked the cold. He'd explained that the place he had worked before coming to Atlantis had been constantly covered in a year round blanket of snow, so he was used to surviving in the cold. Athos had been a temperate climate most of the time, her peoples inhabiting the equatorial regions where the weather was kindest and the ground at its most fertile. She missed the world she'd grown up in, especially here...now.

As she gazed into the distance, lost in thought, a movement caught her eye. Squinting to refocus her tired eyes, she saw a single, dark-haired figure in pale clothing, almost lost against the dusty track of the road, heading toward them. She stood, grasping Ronon's arm.

'Look,' she breathed, pointing it out to him. 'Is it...?'

Ronon shielded his eyes and watched a moment or two longer, his keen vision soon confirming what she hadn't dared to believe. A huge grin almost split his face in two and he took a few steps forward before breaking into a run. 'Yep. It's Sheppard.'

**A/N: Boo to the truck, but yay to finding his friends! Of course, they're still stuck in the middle of nowhere, so you'll have to read on to see how they fix that. Cross your fingers and I'll hopefully have that chapter ready on time...it's going through some changes, but I'll do my best. Thanks to everyone for staying with the story. :D**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29 **

'I think I may have something,' Sam called to Rodney. He rushed to her side, reading quickly as a new screen of data poured out before them on her laptop.

'This is amazing,' he breathed. 'The Ancients were working on technology that could form Stargates without the need for the ring. Just a power supply strong enough to generate a stable wormhole.'

Sam nodded as she continued to read. 'Looks like one of Janus' projects. I recognise a lot of the terminology and theories from his other work.'

'Well that makes sense,' Rodney huffed, cracking a lop-sided smile. 'The craziest ideas all came from him.'

'Actually, this one really was genius,' Sam told him, her face fixed in concentration as she tried to understand what the data was telling her. 'He somehow managed to dematerialise two Stargates and store their patterns in the systems here. Then he's created a program that can react to mental instruction, drawing power from this planet's natural fission process and channelling it into re-materialising the gate and creating the wormhole we've been seeing.'

'But the kind of power you're talking about is...is ...astronomical,' Rodney babbled. How was he able to use the low level fission here to generate something at required those levels of input?'

Sam shook her head to tell him she didn't know as she read on. 'Well, we know the uranium needs 3% of 235U in order to create natural fission, and the reaction also requires water and higher levels of oxygen than are naturally occurring in the atmosphere. The facility here channels the catalysts needed down to the ore and agitates the process to produce incredible amounts of power in short bursts. It seems he was working on a way of stabilising the process to keep the wormholes open for longer, but after some catastrophic failures, the Ancients convinced him to abandon the project entirely.'

'So why is it still going on?'

Sam shrugged. 'It doesn't say anything about that here. My guess, it's some kind of fault that allows it to fire up randomly from time to time...a final command stuck in its memory buffers or something like that. Maybe he deliberately left it operational in the hope he could return to continue with it at some point. It might even be that someone with the Ancient gene has inadvertently triggered it at some time in the past.' Sam straightened out and planted her hands on her hips as she ran through all the data in her head. 'This is really amazing stuff, Rodney. Way beyond anything we've even considered.'

He nodded. 'I know. The potential is...well...at the risk of sounding repetitive...amazing.'

'And we're going to have to shut it down to get home.'

Rodney literally felt his heart sink at the prospect of losing something this advanced. Janus was way out there...way out there...when it came to his experiments, but sometimes he had moments of pure and absolute genius that left him speechless. This was one of those moments.

'If he'd been able to get this thing working, he'd have been able to create a mobile system of intergalactic transportation, and the Ancients would have been able to completely do away with the current gate system. No more of the enemy utilising the gate against them –'

'And no more trade between planets for the indigenous peoples of this or any other galaxy,' Sam pointed out.

'Okay, that's not so good,' Rodney agreed. 'So, why else create this?'

Sam pondered that, leaning back against the control panels and folding her arms over her chest. 'Perhaps it was only meant as an emergency measure. It would only work on a planet with this kind of fission process naturally occurring after all.'

'True,' Rodney nodded, 'although we don't know that this isn't happening on planets all over the system...or that he planned to find some way of making it happen.'

'No, we don't. But I suspect this was just going to be a way of getting home if the Ancients ever found themselves stranded on a 'gateless planet where they could generate the power required to activate this...unless you're right, and this reaction goes on across numerous planets in the Pegasus galaxy...including Wraith strongholds.

'They could infiltrate Wraith planets without the risk of having to use the fixed gate,' Rodney nodded, now that has to be useful.'

'Whatever the true intention of the application, it really is...amazing.'

'Except for the fact it's stopping us from getting home,' he pointed out. 'Seems whatever planet this thing is operating on, this 'gate becomes the primary one, and while it's in operation, we can't get out of here.' Rodney looked at the laptop screen, working out from the data exactly which part of the Ancient equipment there was generating the reaction. With a sigh, he pulled his trusty set of screwdrivers from his pocket and walked over to it, prising the cover panel off the controls. 'Well, time to dismantle yet another piece of potentially life-changing technology.'

Sam smiled her grim agreement, clearly as conscious as he was of the level of science they were about to destroy. 'I'll download what I can as you work,' she told him. Turning back to her laptop and setting the save into operation. 'But this database is huge. I can only collect a fraction of the information held in it, even using both our computers.'

Rodney already knew that was the case, and tried to recite what he'd read over in his mind to commit it to memory. He was good at that kind of thing – remembering data. Names, not so much.

He sat down cross-legged before the panel and began to work, telling himself over and over that this was a good thing, because he would be able to get his friends home and safely away from Sarayah. But the sense of what they were losing still weighed heavily on him, and he could see Sam understood that. A way of travelling around that the Wraith couldn't hi-jack because you needed the ATA gene to operate it was something with potential military applications that could tip the balance of the war. Now, they were about to shut it down with no way of knowing if they would wipe it, or be able to re-power the systems to recall the experiment again.

oooOOOooo

Sheppard could have collapsed out of sheer relief as he saw his huge Satedan friend running toward him. The journey had been hellish, his temperature turning from burning hot one moment to freezing cold the next while he could barely even feel the floor beneath his feet. Sheer determination to reach Teyla and Ronon had kept him going, but now he'd found them...and without any further setbacks. All the way, he'd been expecting Sarayah to pounce from behind every tree or rock, and his nerves were just about fried. This was a better result than he had even dared to hope for.

Ronon pounded towards him, but he managed to stop his friend from giving him the bear hug he suspected was heading his way. 'Glad as I am to see you...please don't crush me!'

The Satedan skidded to a halt, keeping his arms at his sides. 'She hurt you?'

'Oh, you know, a few bumps and scrapes,' he said with a shrug that made him hiss. 'How 'bout you?'

'Just a scratch,' his friend grinned. 'Where is she?'

'I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty much hoping she's still lying back where I flattened her with the truck, but you know Sarayah. Where's your vehicle?'

'Don't have one. Did she fall for it?'

Sheppard broke into a crooked grin. 'Sure did. Good idea, buddy.'

'Thanks.'

Sheppard watched as Teyla gradually caught up to them, breathing a little heavier than normal for her after a run. 'John! I am so glad to see you,' she gasped, moving forward to embrace him.

Again, he stopped her, and she lowered her arms. 'What is wrong?'

'I...fell and broke my arm, not to mention all the other bruises.' It seemed like neither of them were aware of what had happened last night, so lying was easier than having to tell her what he'd actually been through to gain the broken bone. No one had to know the truth behind that.

He saw the change in the tiny Athosian's expression as she listened to his explanation. 'I see...I understand,' she replied, but he could see in her face that she doubted his explanation. Her eyes scanned the landscape beyond him. 'Is she...?'

'He hit her with a truck,' Ronon grinned.

Teyla merely repeated the question. 'And is she...?'

'I don't know,' Sheppard confessed. 'She was moving, but she didn't get up. I guess I should have stopped to check how bad she was, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there.'

Again her eyes drifted back to his, reading him, but if she suspected anything she didn't let on. 'That is understandable,' she nodded. 'And where is the vehicle now?'

'I had to abandon it when it overheated...couldn't fix it with the broken arm. But now I have you guys...'

'Is it back along the route?' Ronon asked, taking his gun back from his beleaguered friend's hand.

Sheppard couldn't help but feel disappointed that he'd had to give it back without having had the opportunity to use it, but he was relieved about it all the same. 'Yeah, I left it maybe two or three miles back. You guys think you can make it?'

He unhooked the P-90 he carried from his shoulder, handing it over to Teyla. 'Can you?' she asked, her face showing some doubt.

'If it means we can get out of here, try and stop me,' he assured her.

Remembering her duty, Teyla handed a radio to Sheppard. 'Colonel Carter and Rodney would be most glad to hear from you I believe,' she said with a warm smile.

But Sheppard shook his head. 'Later. Let's make sure we're out of the woods before getting anyone's hopes up.'

'I thought you said you hit Sarayah with the truck?' Ronon pointed out.

'Yeah, I did. And if we're lucky, I left her immobilised and we'll get the truck and head back to the 'gate with no problems. If not, we're up against one pissed of Medulsan psycho, so I'd prefer not to give anyone any false hope.'

'You are expecting more trouble,' Teyla said, picking up on his anxiety.

He shrugged, his paranoia making him check the route behind him again. 'You know me...I always expect trouble. That way, I can only be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't materialise.'

That brought a smile to Teyla's face. It wasn't that he actually felt like this was a joking matter, but he didn't want to show his friends how shaken he was. He actually felt like dropping to his knees and waiting for help to come, but he'd made his stand now, and if Sarayah was still gunning for him, this was not the time to fall apart.

'Okay, let's see if we can't get that truck back on the road,' he said. Then he remembered something. 'That is, once one of you guys ties my shoelaces.'

Ronon looked at Teyla, who at last managed a smile. 'I would offer, but it is already a little uncomfortable tying my own.'

The Satedan smirked and did the honours, then Sheppard draw his sidearm, striding out back the way he'd come.

His friends fell in beside him, letting him set the pace. He felt stronger for having them along for the journey, but his gut instinct told him things were probably about to get very, very difficult.

To his surprise, the journey back to the abandoned vehicle was uneventful, and as the truck loomed into sight at the top of the rise where he'd left it, Sarayah was still conspicuous in her absence.

Ronon clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Sheppard winced at the contact. 'Looks like you were worrying about nothin',' he grinned. Heading toward it and taking a look under the hood, his friend was soon busily unscrewing caps and hefting the demijohn of water easily up to the engine to fill up the cooling system, even if his injury did make him grimace as he stretched to do it.

Sheppard and Teyla kept watch, their guns prepped and ready. 'How's it looking, Chewie?' the colonel called to him.

A small pool of water gathered beneath the engine, a slow drip coming from the water tank.

'Looks like it's damaged.'

'Yeah...I might be responsible for that,' Sheppard realised, remembering how he'd fired on the truck when he'd first met up with Sarayah. 'D'you think it'll make it?'

The Satedan shrugged. 'Won't know until we try it.'

The colonel delved into his pocket and pulled the key card out to hand it to him, stopping short as he noticed something from the corner of his eye. The metal cup he had used to try and fill the truck's engine cooler lay at the rear of the truck, rocking slightly in the dirt. He'd left it at the front of the truck with the demijohn when he'd left. Had someone moved it, or had the wind managed to blow it that way? Since the wind was blowing from the back to the front of the truck, he knew that was unlikely. Which could only mean...

As Ronon held his hand out for the card, Sheppard gave the hold signal. Teyla raised her gun a fraction, her eyes wide and fixed on him for further instruction. Ronon, too, silently drew his weapon now, picking up on Sheppard's tension. The sensation they were being watched was so strong it was almost tangible. Sheppard had spent the last few days under Sarayah's constant observation – now he was certain he could feel her eyes on him again.

Sheppard gestured for Ronon to check the cab of the vehicle, and he did so, edging over to it and ripping the door open to reveal no occupant.

Satisfied Sarayah wasn't hiding there, he gestured for them both to follow him to the rear of the truck, and they crept that way, Teyla watching their six while he and Ronon leaped into view of the opening brandishing their guns, Ronon even firing. The energy wriggled away across the boxes and disperse, but Sarayah did not reveal herself. Ronon even ducked to check beneath the truck, firing again, but no one was lurking there.

He'd been so certain she was there. Were his nerves so shot his instincts had been wrong? Maybe not; there were a lot of boxes stacked in that truck. She could potentially be behind any one of them. Scraping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, Sheppard ordered Ronon to cover him, an order Ronon clearly wasn't happy with. He wanted to go in himself, but Sheppard knew he was the only one of the three of them Sarayah wouldn't instantly kill if she felt threatened...at least he hoped that was how she still felt. He supposed being hit by a truck might have changed her perspective.

Hauling himself up into the back, he edged carefully onwards checking every niche and cubbyhole, his heart leaping into his throat and drumming there every time. He was about to check behind the last box when a wave of dizziness took over him. For a second or two, he didn't realise why he'd stumbled to his knees, imagining in might be pure exhaustion, until he tried to turn toward Ronon and found he couldn't co-ordinate his movements enough even to do that. He fell, straight onto his broken arm, but barely felt a thing...just a distant, dull ache. The sonic pulse gun...

A muffled sound, the rattle of P-90 fire echoed in his head, and he realised that had to be Teyla firing. He rolled and crawled toward the rear of the truck, seeing Ronon collapsed on the ground and Teyla aiming upwards toward the roof. She let off another few rounds, making him instinctively duck, then, as his scrambled senses began to pull back together he heard a thud on the ground at the side of the truck.

Teyla began to creep forward, ready to round the vehicle and check the status of their target, but Sheppard signalled for her to stay put and leave it to him, Sarayah's earlier threat to kill at least one of his friends was still foremost in his mind. If he went after her himself, they might still get out of this.

He slid out of the truck, steadied himself, then rounded the end of the vehicle quickly, brandishing his gun and ready to fire.

She wasn't there.

Okay, she couldn't, or rather wouldn't, have gone far. So he moved on, trying to hold his trembling hand steady, the sonic shock and his exhaustion making it almost impossible. There were boot prints in front of him, numerous sets, all smaller than his own, plus a patch of flattened earth that looked as if she might have landed on it when he'd heard the thud...and blood.

Blood was a good sign. Blood meant she was injured after all. That had to slow her down. But there was blood on the ladder up to the roof of the truck, too, he noticed as he edged toward it. Was that from her first ascent, or was she up there again? He raised his weapon and squinted up against the hazy light of the sky, but he couldn't see her up there. Surely it would have taken her longer to climb up there than he had allowed her before seeking her out?

He scooted along the side of the truck and around to the front, but again she had already moved on. The drag marks on the ground told him where she'd got to just a little too late as she fired, the pulse flooring him as he recognised a vaguely human blur crawling out from under what he remembered as the truck to tug his weapon from his hand and dive back under it again.

All he could do was watch, unable to move or even shout a warning to Teyla. There was nothing else he could do.

When some use began to return to his limbs, he immediately rolled and crawled back towards the rear of the truck. As he reached the back, he spotted Teyla lying in the dirt several yards away, and Sarayah stepped out in front of him.

'Going somewhere, John?' her muffled voice asked.

He tilted his head up to look at her. Her face was bloodied down one side, and she kept her left arm, the one holding the pulse gun, tight to her side as though it was painful, but she was still upright. Maybe she'd bust her own arm falling from the truck roof. Instant Karma.

She bent down to grab a handful of his hair and pulled him up to his knees. He saw a grimace cross her face, and she pressed at her stomach with her weapon hand as she drew up straight again, something that told him she might actually be more seriously injured than she appeared – perhaps internally. Keeping her arm still was her way of reducing the pain in her torso...not in her arm.

'I take it you didn't have the full dose of sedatives, John. Very clever,' she grunted, her eyes glistening with the signs of her discomfort. 'I'm impressed. I never noticed a thing.'

Realising the injury might give him an advantage, Sheppard was about to swing for her, when they were both floored by a huge bulk of Satedan as Ronon, now semi-recovered, pitched himself into the battle. They all rolled, Sarayah coughing out a spray of blood as Ronon finished up on top of her. But she didn't relinquish her grip on the pulse gun and fired it, rendering them both useless and as Sheppard watched in his inept and barely cognisant state, she fired straight at Ronon a second time, knocking him out cold.

Sheppard managed to turn his head toward Teyla, who was just beginning to move. He hoped the pulses weren't affecting the baby. He couldn't afford to let her keep getting hit that way. He needed to get to her...to shield her...

Before he could command his limbs into action, Sarayah squatted down and pulled him up by his shirtfront, glaring into his eyes. 'You and your people just don't have what it takes, do you, John? I have the superior weaponry, and I will prevail.'

She fired her gun again, not directly enough to knock him out, but enough to leave him in a whirl of confusion as she stalked away, grabbing a looped length of rope from the back of the truck as she passed it and heading toward the Satedan now lying a few feet away. Torn by his need to defend both his friends, Sheppard saw her catching hold of him and tried to draw her away. 'You're not getting out of this, Sarayah...you're hurt...you can't keep this up. You can't keep all three of us down.'

Ronon groaned as his lucidity began to return and the pain of so many pulses in a short time wracked his body. He was a tough bastard, but even he couldn't get up quickly after that many hits. Grinning over at Sheppard, she swiftly secured Ronon and cut away the excess rope, leaving him there in the dirt to come round. She reached inside her tac-vest, and Sheppard decided he wasn't going to wait there and find out what she unleashed on them next.

He forced himself onto his knees and started crawling toward Teyla, who had again been dazed by the shot that Sarayah had fired near him. He had to protect her. Sarayah had willingly killed her own child; she wouldn't think twice about harming Teyla's.

'I seem to be having a fair amount of success so far,' Sarayah replied fiercely from behind him, a crack splitting the air only seconds before the flesh on his back exploded with pain. It momentarily knocked the strength out of him, and his limbs gave way. _That damned whip! _he realised. _Might have known she'd resort to her weapon of choice eventually._

She approached him, trailing the whip she'd used in the dirt as she kicked him again, this time straight in his broken arm and ripping a scream from him that brought Ronon more quickly to his senses.

'Hey! Hey!' the Satedan called to her. 'You wanna make this a real fight, cut me free and see how well you do.'

Sarayah had walked straight on past Sheppard and was already busy disarming Teyla by this point, tossing her P-90 several yards away since she couldn't carry it herself. She looked up, grinning at him just as ferociously as anything he could manage. 'I'm not stupid, Satedan. That would hardly be a fair battle against someone like you. You just lie back and enjoy the show...it's the last one you'll ever see.'

Sheppard tried to rise again, determined to get to her. He'd seen the pulse gun was shoved in the front of her belt now to free her hands to tie up Teyla; if he could get it away from her they stood a chance. As he advanced, Sarayah lashed out toward him again with her whip, the studded straps ripping through the sleeve and flesh of his upper left arm, dropping him where he stood. He hadn't thought that arm could hurt any more than it already did; apparently, he was wrong.

Teyla began to come to as Sarayah wound more rope around her wrists. She struggled as strongly as she could, kicking out and tugging her hands back to try to prevent Sarayah knotting off her bonds. She got Sarayah into a leg lock and threw her down, but with her hands restrained couldn't effectively follow up before Sarayah punched her in the ribs, and caught hold of her ankles, cutting a length of rope and looping it around them. 'Now don't make this more difficult than it has to be, Teyla. Of you and Ronon, you were the one I always hoped would make it through this. But that brat within you...'

Sheppard knew what was coming and threw himself into her just as she raised her boot to stamp down on Teyla's stomach. He bowled her over, sending them both rolling in the dirt until they came to a standstill with him on top. The pain the fall caused made his movements more sluggish than usual. He reached for her gun, but she punched him before his fingers could wrap around the butt, knocking him sideways.

She jumped up, letting out a cry and dropping to one knee, clutching her left side as yet more blood oozed from the corners of her mouth. Whatever was hurt inside her was getting worse; Sheppard could see that now from her sallow complexion and the sheen of perspiration breaking out on her skin. Seeing an opportunity to bargain, he leapt on it.

'You're hurt, possibly badly,' he started, rising cautiously to his feet. 'If you carry on like this you're only gonna make it worse. If you're bleeding internally, which I think you are, then you may die –'

'What do you care?' She lashed at him again, the whip slashing across his leg and taking it from under him as it gouged into his already swollen and torn flesh. The bandages gave some protection, but nowhere near enough.

Biting back expletives, Sheppard desperately tried to get the conversation moving the way he wanted it to. 'If you stop this, now, I promise to get the truck working and take you back to Keller –' Not that he meant it, but if he scared her, she might become desperate enough to trust him...and he knew she would have to be really desperate to do that now.

She cracked the whip, catching his arm again, tearing through already lacerated skin. A wave of nausea welled in his throat, but he contained it as he toppled further. 'Lemme finish!' he pleaded.

'No more games...no more lies,' she said frighteningly quietly, flicking her wrist once again. The studs ripped through the front of his shirt, cutting chest and stomach alike. The pain built from a slight stab to a searing burn in seconds, making even the slightest movement sheer torture. His friends cried out for him to get moving, but as he twisted away she struck again, his back erupting once more as he gasped out a pained cry.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up again. Teyla's P-90 lay about fifteen yards away from where he was. If he could make it...

Another crack and his legs disappeared from under him; he landed face first in the dirt. His body hurt too much to move anymore, as if his skin was tearing just with the inflation of his lungs.

She whipped him one more time for good measure, the studs ripping through him like knives, exposing raw flesh to the air. Ronon was yelling at Sarayah somewhere, but his mind was fogging. He'd taken too much of a battering; he was passing out. _NO! Not now!_

Pushing him onto his shredded back with her boot, she stepped on his sternum, slowly increasing the pressure. 'If I'm as sick as you say, I'd better make sure I take you all with me,' she grinned, coughing blood up onto him, where it mingled with his own.

Sheppard knew he should fight, but his body had had enough pain to last him a lifetime in the past few days and it didn't want anymore. The edges of his vision we darkening – he blinked it back, trying to hold oblivion at bay a while longer so he could act.

'No more games...no more lies,' she repeated over and over as she leaned in more, crushing the air out of his lungs.

Somewhere nearby, he heard Teyla screaming for him to fight, and Ronon growling like a feral animal, caged and furious as he strained against his bindings to get to his friend. Sheppard was aware of all this, catching hold of her ankle and trying to twist her off balance. Inside he was screaming his defiance, but all that came out was a groan...

oooOOOooo

'Okay, I've located the particular part of the system utilising the power from the fission reactor,' Rodney announced, sitting back from his work and straightening his aching back. 'If I shut down that process, the anomaly should shut down with it.'

Sam nodded, staring intently at the laptop still downloading the datafiles. 'That's good, Rodney. Just give it a few more minutes.'

'Have we got much of it stored?'

She shook her head. 'A little over twenty percent...but it's a start. And who knows, maybe we'll be able to come back some time and just reboot the database.'

'Yeah, who knows,' he smiled back, but he knew it was probably hopeless. 'Let me know when you're ready for me to proceed.'

'Just a couple more minutes, then we should be good to go.'

oooOOOooo

Reality slapped Sheppard awake as Teyla called to him again. He was the only thing standing between his friends and this lunatic, and he was the only one who was free to stop her. That drove him on; he started fighting back, if not for his own sake, for that of Ronon and Teyla. If he didn't stop her, they would die – that was fact. No negotiating and reasoning would change her intentions. He'd lied his last to her.

Bucking her off, he tried to roll away. Slowed by his injuries and disorientation, she grabbed his hair and brought her knee into his face as he attempted to stand, bloodying his nose. He dropped to his knees, then his hand, blood dripping onto the ground before him. Was this it? Was this the way John Sheppard would finally bow out? Broken in front of his friends and then forced to watch them die?

She kicked him on his back, and he choked on his blood as ran down his throat. He could see her grinning down at him, her chin stained red as she hunched against the pain the impact from truck had caused.

'Come on, John,' she taunted, bending down and grabbing his face, flinching even as she did it. 'Fight me if you can. You know how much I enjoy your defiance.'

'Get away from him, you whore,' Ronon screamed at her, a clear attempt to draw her attention to himself. Her reaction was swift and unforgiving. She threw aside her whip and snatched the 9-mil from the back of her belt. He rolled just in time to shield his torso, taking the shot in his shoulder instead.

'Ronon!' Sheppard and Teyla yelled in unison.

'Oh, don't worry about him. He won't feel it for long because he'll be dead soon enough.'

The pulse gun was still in her belt. He could try again because if he could turn that on her, then they would have the advantage...except she still had the ear protection, so he and his friends would be the ones to suffer. _Superior weaponry. _She was right, she had beaten them because she had better weapons, but maybe he had something on his side he could use that would outclass just about anything she could bring to the table.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

'What are you doing?' he heard Sarayah laugh, squeezing his jaw. 'This is no time to fall asleep.'

He blocked her words and touches out, thinking only of dialling the 'gate, hearing the familiar rush and settling of an event horizon only feet away

She jumped at the sound, pushing up from him and stumbling to her feet. 'The Divine One...you...you called it?'

'Yeah...yeah I did. Maybe I'm not so inconsequential as you think, huh?'

'That's not possible!' She spun on him, gun poised to fire. 'Make it go away.'

'Why? Afraid it's gonna judge you?' he asked, finding the strength from somewhere to give her a vicious grin.

'Make it go away!' she warned him again, and he saw her finger tighten a little on the trigger.

'Don't worry. It won't judge you...can't say the same for me, though.' He kicked her hard in her injured side, knocking her off balance and back through the event horizon just as it snapped shut, the round from her weapon firing harmlessly away above him.

Something thumped to the ground at his feet. It was her hand, still gripping Teyla's 9-mil.

He scrambled back away from it as if he expected it to take on a life of its own, just as he'd seen a Wraith arm do in the carnage of a crashed dart the first time he ever encountered them. Of course, it didn't move...not even a twitch.

His chest heaved painfully with the effort of breathing through his panic, and he collapsed back onto the ground, the pain of his various injuries engulfing him. But this was it...this was as bad as it would get. She would never strike another blow.

'John?'

Teyla's plaintive call reminded him he was still needed. Though every movement was agony, he rolled to his knees and practically crawled to her, hindered by so many raw wounds and agonies he almost couldn't do it. But he did.

He freed Teyla first, so she could help him deal with Ronon's greater needs. She supported him over to their friend on legs that burned from the tears in his skin, which, though not deep thanks to the protective layer of clothing between the studded straps and him, had ripped through enough skin layers to make walking feel like he was forging through flames. To his surprise, the Satedan was grinning when they got to him, and already sitting up despite the bloodstain spreading out from the hole in the shoulder of his shirt. They freed him so he could make himself more comfortable.

'You made that thing appear?' he asked, clutching Teyla's offered hand to pull himself up straighter.

'Yeah, I figured out it was some kind of Stargate when I set out to look for you guys from the truck. Kept appearing when I thought about dialling home.'

'So where'd you send her?'

Sheppard shrugged, instantly regretting it. 'Just thought of...the first uninhabited planet that... sprung to mind...Not sure what it's called,' he panted, tugging his shirt away from the cuts on his back in the hope it wouldn't stick to them and be more painful to remove later.

'Wherever it was, she will not have made it through,' Teyla told him, looking back at what remained of their attacker. 'Things passing through a Stargate have to enter in their entirety to be able to re-emerge on the other side, remember?'

In the mayhem, Sheppard had momentarily forgotten that rule. Sarayah's hand, still clutching Teyla's sidearm, was the symbol of their hard-earned victory...and Sarayah's death. She was gone, and this time, she would not be coming back.

'Hey, at least you got your sweatband back,' Ronon chuckled, his eyes crinkling with pain as his laughter increased his discomfort.

Curling his lip, Sheppard looked back at the severed limb still sporting the stolen item. 'I think I'll pass on that. I've got another one back on Atlantis.'

'Would you like this now?' Teyla asked, handing him the radio.

'Yeah, now would be a good time,' he agreed, opening a channel. 'Colonel Carter, this is Sheppard. Please respond.'

The reaction was instant. 'John! It's good to hear your voice. Where are you? Are you all right?'

'Yeah...I'm good,' he lied, seeing Teyla's disbelieving expression. 'But I'm here with Ronon and Teyla and the big guy's taken fire. 'I'm going to help him into Sarayah's truck and get him back to you asap.'

'Negative, John. Rodney and I have figured out what was happening here. The anomaly that attacked the jumper you arrived in was a Stargate reacting to your thoughts. It was overriding the planet's 'gate and preventing us from dialling out. We've managed to shut it down, so we can bring a jumper through to pick you all up. Just keep him comfortable and someone be with you soon.'

So, it was Sam and Rodney's perfect timing that had cut the 'gate off at that opportune moment. He figured he owed them a drink for than one.

'Understood,' he replied, letting himself relax and sitting back in the dirt. 'Teyla, could you take care of that 'cos...I think...I'm just...going t...to pass out f...for a while.'

He only caught the beginning of her startled cry before tilting sideways and blacking out, his exhaustion and pain finally taking their due toll.

**A/N: Ding dong, the witch is dead! Hoorah. And I even managed to get the chapter up pretty much on time! That's even more amazing. :P Thanks for sticking wth this story. Just one more chapter to go now. :)**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Sam was taking a few moments to relax after the tribulations of their mission. After having her arm injury checked, sutured, and dressed, she'd been given a clean bill of health and released to her quarters for a rest before taking on her full role as commander again in the morning. First though, she'd caught up with Major Lorne about all the issues in the city she needed to be aware of, and now, one good meal and a hot shower later, she was about to stretch out in bed when a chime announced someone at her door.

She padded over to answer it, finding a worried looking Jennifer on her threshold. 'Hi. Everything okay with Ronon's surgery?' she asked her.

Jennifer had refused to rest since their return and had been busy from the moment they got back, insisting on evaluating both Ronon and Colonel Sheppard, and overseeing the subsequent surgeries required. 'Oh, yeah. He's in recovery now. We were able to remove the bullet via arthroscopic techniques, so he should be on the mend real soon.'

The bullet had entered his left shoulder in the deltoid muscle as he'd rolled to defend himself against more serious injury. His physique being as it was, it had lodged there, missing the bone and any vital arteries. Ronon had undoubtedly been very lucky, shot twice but with no serious complications.

'That's good to hear,' Sam smiled, sensing the doctor had something else to say. 'You want to come in for a while?'

Jennifer gave her a grim smile and stepped inside the room, making no attempt to sit or relax in any way.

'Did you release Teyla yet? I know she was keen to be out of bed,' Sam asked, worried that something might have happened to her or the baby.

'Well, other than a few bruises and some nasty blisters from all the walking, both Teyla and baby are doing well. I've convinced her to stay in the infirmary for tonight and I'll release her in the morning.'

Sam nodded, still seeing tension in Jennifer's expression. 'And are you going ahead with John's surgery?'

'That's actually why I'm here,' she admitted, clutching her medical pad to her chest.

'Is there a problem?'

'Oh no, the surgery can go ahead and my team are prepping the theatre now. It's just...I really don't know how to say this...'

Exhausted and uncomfortable from her own injury, Sam pressed her to get to the point.

'Okay...he's lying about how he broke his arm.'

Sam hadn't been expecting anything like that. She'd imagined Jennifer was going to tell her about potential complications with his injuries, not question the veracity of Sheppard's recall of events. 'Lying? How do you know?'

'Well, I was a little suspicious of his story when he told me, several times, that he didn't recall how he came across certain injuries. He has severe bruising to his right hip, which he said was caused when Sarayah sideswiped him with her truck to abduct him, and that's consistent. And he also has a number of ligature marks around his wrists, ankles and neck –'

'His neck?' Sam gasped. 'I noticed some bruising but...'

'Well, if you examine him closely – and trust me, that wasn't easy – you can see they were most likely cause by something being tied around his throat.'

'Did he tell you what happened?'

'Apparently, he can't remember.'

Sam arched an eyebrow. 'Okay...'

'Then there are the lacerations from the whipping he took just before sending Sarayah through that 'gate...Ronon and Teyla told me how those happened before he woke up...but the several burn marks on his torso and legs...he can't remember how they happened, either.'

Sam was beginning to see a pattern forming. Although Sarayah had sedatives at her disposal, he doubted she would have bothered to inflict injuries on him while he was unconscious. 'I see...and his arm?'

'He says he broke it running from the bear-like creature that swiped his leg, and while the lacerations on his calf are consistent with that story...well, you take a look.'

Jennifer passed Sam the medical pad, which was currently displaying a scan of Sheppard's broken forearm, the two parts of his radius and ulna bones clearly separated. She wasn't a medical doctor, but the fracture did immediately strike her as odd. 'And he says this was caused in a fall.'

Jennifer nodded, chewing her lip. 'I think you can see the problem. 'A fall causes a compression or impact fracture, where the two halves of the bone are pushed against one another. These bones have been exposed to tensile forces, not compression, which is much less common and usually caused by someone or something pulling on the bone.'

Sam felt her stomach flip at the thought of what Keller's findings meant. If John was lying about how he'd come by certain injuries, it meant he had most likely endured much more than he had thus far reported while in Sarayah's company.

'If you want my theory...' Jennifer ventured.

Sam's eyes flashed up to hers. 'Go on.'

'There are several different sets of ligature marks around his wrist, some of which have actually bruised up towards his hands themselves. Those kinds of marks suggest a pulling down motion, so the ropes ride up rather than stay secured evenly around the wrists themselves.'

'You think she strung him up?' Sam said, riding the wave of revulsion that thought awoke in her.

'That would certainly be more consistent with the type of break we're looking at, yes. And then there's the way he responded when he woke up in the infirmary while we were trying to clean him up and...well, I have never seen anyone that freaked out before. After the initial struggling when he was still confused, it was like he completely froze up on us. I'm not one to throw around wild accusations, but I think we should seriously consider the possibility that she did a lot more to him than he's saying.'

Nodding slowly, Sam realised she had already been suspecting the same thing. Bits and pieces of information had filtered through to her once Sheppard had woken, but nothing that sounded like anything on the normal scales of abuse. Now, the idea that Sarayah had inflicted injuries on him while unconscious just didn't wash. Sheppard was repressing...and somehow, that just didn't surprise her. 'And how does he seem in himself now?'

Jennifer huffed out a laugh, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, searching for the right words. 'That's the other thing that has me worried. Now, he's acting like nothing much happened...like we should be worrying about the others and he's ready to get back out there as soon as I fix him up. If anything he's more John Sheppard than usual...if that makes sense. Thing is, I've tried to talk to him about this, but he just shuts me down every time. Maybe if it was to come from someone he really respects...'

'You mean, someone like me,' Sam sighed, realising she wasn't going to get the relaxing evening she'd been hoping for just yet. 'You go get the theatre ready. I think I might go have a quick chat with him.'

'That would be good. You'll find him in one of the side bays out of the main run; he seems less agitated there.'

After Jennifer left, Sam pulled on some casual clothes, careful as she slipped her injured arm through the sleeve. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror, rubbing her fingertips across the dark circles beneath her eyes. In truth, she felt too exhausted to be heading out again, but it sounded like there was something to be worried about, and she needed to assess things for herself.

When she reached the infirmary, Sheppard was predictably tired, but also surprisingly bright. He lay on his side to avoid putting pressure on the worst of the lacerations on his back and spotted her as soon as she walked in the door. 'Hey, Colonel. I thought they let you go already. Couldn't stay away, huh?'

She forced on a smile and pulled up a chair beside him. 'I just wanted to check everyone here was okay before I turned in for the night. I'm surprised to find you alone.'

'Well, Ronon's in recovery, Teyla was here, but I ordered her to go get some sleep, and I threw McKay out when he wouldn't stop talking about dinner.'

'Was he complaining?'

'When is he ever not?' he grinned back at her, then winced as something somewhere hurt. She couldn't even begin to guess where or what was bothering him, he had so many injuries, she didn't know where to start.

'It's probably better that they've gone now you'll be having the op soon.'

'Probably. For a minute there I thought you were going to tell me my surgery had been cancelled. I've been holding out on eating for the past three hours so I can have the anaesthetic, and I'm starving.'

Sam's smile broadened at his joke, but she could see something in his eyes that told her the supposed good mood he was in wasn't quite how he felt. 'Well, I'll make sure the kitchen staff know to keep you something warm for when you come round.'

'Make it a steak...well done.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

Sheppard laid his down against the pillows. 'They were supposed to be coming with my pre-med...'

'I know...I asked them to give me a minute so we could talk.'

He turned his head her way. 'Something wrong? Is it Ronon?'

'No, Ronon's fine.'

'So, what is it?'

'I'm not sure, John. Why don't you tell me?'

A shadow crossed his face, just momentarily, then he lay his head down again and closed his eyes. 'I'm back on Atlantis, Sarayah's gone, I'm getting my arm fixed, and later I'm getting steak. I figure life's pretty good right now.'

Her eyes wandered to his throat, where the ligature marks now seemed so much clearer under the bright lights of the infirmary. 'It must be a real relief to know you won't be running into her again.'

He snorted a laugh. 'Yeah, you could say that. My back will be particularly happy once the welts go down.'

'I bet...not to mention your arm?'

His eyes instantly snapped open and met hers. 'My arm?'

'You didn't break it in a fall, did you?'

She couldn't quite read the emotions crossing his expression – pain, anger, fear...maybe even a mixture of them all. 'I really would like to get that surgery underway. I haven't eaten properly in days.'

Sam suppressed the sigh she wanted to release, knowing it would only aggravate the delicate situation. 'I'm not going to push you to talk about this, John, but both Dr Keller and I are...concerned for you. You were alone with Sarayah for almost three days, and I expect you had a pretty rough time of it, so...I guess what I'm saying is...if and when you are ready to talk, there are a lot of people waiting and willing to listen.'

If she wasn't mistaken, Sheppard's eyes seemed to glisten as he rolled them in the direction of the floor. 'I...I'm good.'

'If it's too hard to speak with your friends, maybe you could book a session with Dr Weissman.'

His reaction to that, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose and smirked, told her he wasn't keen on that idea. 'Any chance of that pre-med now?'

'Sure,' she stood up and put the chair back where she'd got it from. She was about to leave, when she felt compelled to say one final thing. 'We're not your enemies, John. You don't have to keep the barriers up any more.'

His face was a portrait of enforced stoicism. He nodded briskly, then let his head fall back to the pillow again. Sam let the medical staff know he was ready, then headed to her room once again. Compared to previous occasions his wounds, though numerous, were relatively minor. Physically he'd be fixed up in no time, but she doubted the trauma of whatever that woman had put him through would heal any time soon.

oooOOOooo

'Hey! I heard you were out so I thought I'd drop by and...you know...see how you're doing.'

Sheppard slouched away from his door, and headed over to his bed, gingerly sitting back down on it. McKay stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind him, painfully aware of the lack of conversation forthcoming.

'So...how's the arm?'

'Sore.'

He imagined it was. Rodney had broken his arm falling off his bike when he was six and it had hurt like a bitch – he could still remember it now. 'I bet,' he said wandering in, his hands pushed into his pockets. Sheppard had a lot of cool stuff in his room; a skateboard, a surfboard, and that Johnny Cash poster he'd coveted from the first moment of spying it hanging over his bed. He had to wonder how a geek like him had ended up befriending a man like Sheppard, or rather, vice versa. But they did have some things in common, like right now, when neither of them knew how to fill the awkward silence.

'Ronon's getting out later today. He wants out now, but Keller has insisted he stay put for the full twenty-four hours.'

'Yeah...I know.'

This was not the same Sheppard he'd left in the infirmary last night. Today he was brooding and quiet...although that might be something to do with the relief of his rescue wearing off. That or he was a hell of a lot sorer today.

'Jennifer told me she'd planned to keep you in, too, but you –'

'Discharged myself, yeah,' Sheppard finished for him.

'I guess getting prodded and poked around can get a little wearing,' McKay smirked, rocking backward and forward on his heels.

'Yeah...Like I told her, I just wanted some privacy.'

'Now that I can relate to because those nurses...they have absolutely no concept of –' He paused, Sheppard's words finally sinking in. 'Oh, you mean you'd like me to leave?' he asked, thumbing back over his shoulder toward the door.

Sheppard just gave him a wry smile and, moved stiffly as if his back hurt. To be honest, Rodney thought he looked like he still needed to be in the infirmary, but he doubted he was in the mood to hear that...certainly not from him.

'Right...well...I'll just go then,' he said quietly, heading back toward the door. 'Let me know if you need anything.'

He was almost there when Sheppard suddenly asked, 'There's no way she's coming back this time, right?'

Rodney froze, realising what was on Sheppard's mind now. He turned, forcing on a smile. 'I should say not. You just kicked her through the event horizon of a highly unstable experimental wormhole.'

'Which is why I'm asking the question.' Sheppard raised his weary eyes to meet his, full of doubt and anxiety. If anything, he looked more stressed now than he had for the past three months when Sarayah had been on the loose, and he dearly wanted to set his friend's mind at rest.

'The thing was almost constantly collapsing in on itself. Do you have any idea of the levels of power required to substance the negative energy field needed to keep a wormhole open?'

Sheppard blinked back at him. 'No...not really.'

'No...of course you don't,' Rodney muttered, inwardly chastising himself for asking such a dumb question. If he understood the intricacies of 'gate physics, Sheppard would already know the answer to his question. 'Well, it's way higher than the energy levels that natural fission reactor was producing. She'll have been ripped apart by the tidal forces alone...plus, she didn't even go through intact, so she can't reassemble on the other side even if she actually reached it, which there is no evidence to suggest she did.'

'But it was an experimental gate –'

Rodney held up a finger to interrupt him. 'An experimental gate that had never once performed successfully. Besides, I checked, and each time we inadvertently activated the anomaly on Guedeseo, there was no corresponding anomalous activity here on Atlantis. If there was any chance of her getting through, I think we would have seen that at least once.'

Sheppard nodded, staring down at his booted feet. 'So you can guarantee she's not going to just pop up anywhere unexpectedly?'

'I am 99.99% sure of it,' he announced, giving him a lopsided smile as he smuggle crossed his arms.

'99.99%?' The colonel looked slightly pained as he looked his way again.

'What do you want Sheppard? Those are pretty good odds.'

'I'd prefer 100%.'

'What? Well...I'm a scientist. I don't give absolutes because there are so many variable to take into account...'

'So she could be out there?'

'No!' Rodney forced himself to calm down. This wasn't Sheppard's fault. The kind of science he worked with was beyond so many people's grasp there was no way even someone as smart as Sheppard could understand the probability of what he was asking. 'No, Sheppard, she did not get through...I swear it.'

Sheppard nodded silently and went back to looking at his trainers.

Without even consciously thinking it, Rodney heard himself ask. 'She really got to you this time, didn't she?'

Suddenly, Sheppard's anxiety fired into anger. 'Every time I meet the woman she bets the crap out of me. It would just be nice to know it isn't going to happen again.'

'It won't...at least not at her hands – or should I say hand?' he mumbled, backing toward the door. 'Look...I dropped by to say that...I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out the gate problem. If I'd realised what was going on sooner –'

'This wasn't your fault. Rodney. I don't blame you.'

'No?'

Sheppard held his gaze firmly, not a flicker of doubt in his eyes. 'No. Now, go play with whatever it is you're playing with in the lab at the moment and don't worry about me.'

'What're you gonna do?'

'Sleep.' And with that, Sheppard cautiously lifted his legs up onto the bed and closed his eyes.

Rodney nodded with a sad smile, figuring Sheppard probably hadn't had much chance for that over the past few days. He left him to it, hoping he found some peace.

oooOOOooo

Sheppard woke several hours later to the sound of someone at his door again. He pushed up off the bed, opening it to find Sam outside. 'Hi. Can I come in?'

He doubted it was purely a social call, but figured a follow-up conversation had been inevitable after last night. 'Sure. I'm a popular guy today.'

She slipped in past him and he stood near the door, waiting for her to speak. She turned to face him, giving him a broad grin. 'I understand the surgery was a complete success and you're all pinned back together.'

'So I'm told. It could take a couple of months, but after that it should be fixed.'

'So, when you're well enough to take on light duties, you can make a start on your staff evaluations,' she hinted, and he realised there was no way out of providing the reports she'd been nagging him to write up for the past two weeks now.

'Great...can't wait,' he quipped, although he really couldn't think of anything he would rather not be doing.

He limped over to his bed and gestured for Sam to pull up his chair, which she did.

'I'll get straight to the point, John. Rodney came to see me earlier and told me you're worried that Sarayah may have survived the trip through the experimental 'gate.'

'Well...I wouldn't say worried exactly,' he muttered, pulling the collar of his T-shirt away from his bruises.

'It's understandable that you would be, but she's gone, John. If Rodney didn't convince you of that, then I hope I can.'

'I guess it's just that I don't really get the physics behind this stuff in the way you guys do.'

She laughed. 'Don't worry. Not many people do.'

'Rodney said the wormhole would have collapsed on her before she got through it.'

Sam nodded. 'That's right.'

'And that the tidal forces at the event horizon would have torn her apart.'

'Probably, yes.'

'And that because she...left her hand behind, she couldn't pass through anyway.'

'That's what we understand, yes. The Stargate transmits matter in whole units. A person or item has to enter in its entirety before the transportation process can begin.'

So, Sam had confirmed everything Rodney had told him, but it still wasn't enough.

'What's wrong, John? What do you need to know...specifically?'

He sighed rubbing his face hard to clear his head. For the past five hours he'd relived various moments from his 'lessons' and it felt like even though she'd gone, he would never be free of her.

'That this'll get easier,' he whispered, and when he looked up, Sam looked genuinely distressed for him.

'It will, but only if you find a way to let it go,' she said, reaching out to take his hand.

He pulled back before she could make contact. He wasn't ready to be touched just yet.

Sam nodded. She was a seriously smart woman and he suspected she understood why he'd done that. She leaned back in her seat as if she thought he needed more room. 'Jennifer isn't happy about you discharging yourself, you know,' she said, watching his reaction.

Though he knew she was only watching him out of concern, it irritated him more than was rational. He averted his gaze, staring out of the window. 'I now, but...I just couldn't stand to be cooped up in the infirmary with everyone fussing over me.'

'You're sick, John. You still need medical attention.'

He nodded. 'I know...but I can't stay there.'

He glanced up at her, seeing the way she chewed at the inside of her mouth as she thought about what he'd said. 'Maybe there's a way round this we can all be happy with,' she mused, standing now. 'I'm going to let you get some more rest now,' she announced, heading for the door.

Sheppard appreciated her understanding and desire to help, so repaid it. 'She did break my arm,' he told her just as she was about to activate the door control.

She turned back to him, looking grim. 'I thought as much. I'm just glad she got what was coming to her this time.'

'Yeah...you and me both...Would it have hurt...you know...when those tidal forces pulled her apart.'

Sam shook her head. 'I doubt it, the gate is designed to demolecularise things the instant they pass through the ring. The atoms of her body will simply have been pulled apart and their connections broken during that process.'

He thought about that, nodding slowly and chewing at his bottom lip as he pondered her answer. 'That's a damned shame.'

Sam laughed out loud. 'Yes...yes it is. Now get some more rest...that's an order.'

oooOOOooo

Over the next few weeks, Sheppard and the medical team came to a compromise where he would attend the infirmary for treatment or checks of his dressings, and scans to check his arm was healing, but was always released back to his own quarters for rest. That gradually stretched to two days, then four and by the end of the month, when his cast was finally removed, he was physically healed of all but the deepest lacerations.

Jennifer gave him the good news that his arms had healed completely when the cast came off, but she still looked at him in the same way most of his friends did...with a kind of unexpressed sympathy that he absolutely hated. Only Ronon treated him in the same way he always had, and he knew the others were trying to forget what had happened to him, but just hadn't quite got there yet.

Two weeks after the removal of his cast, Colonel Carter gave his team their first mission – to return to Guedeseo to help the villagers with preparations for the migration. Though it wouldn't exactly have been his first choice of destination, Sheppard was glad to return and lay his ghosts to rest, and he felt he owed it to the people there to lend a hand. Apparently, most of the people on the planet had chosen to stay there, even though the gate would take them wherever they wanted to go. Guedeseo had become their home, the seasonal travelling a way of life. This year's migration would be an easier prospect, of course, since many of them could be ferried in jumpers and only a few would have to drive the cattle along the traditional route. That was at least some compensation for what Sarayah had done to them.

John took the jumper through the gate, feeling happy to have his team all back together again. Things had felt...strained over the past couple of months, though not in a bad way. There were many unspoken concerns that would have to come out gradually, and he was happy to take it slowly, letting them into his feelings as and when he felt ready.

Once on Guedeseo, he decided to take a quick detour, following the migration route to get a feel for just how far they were from help while in Sarayah's hands. The distance was vast, and brought with it some unpleasant memories as he took the jumper low over the village he and Sarayah had spent their "alone time" in, spotting the house with the hole in the roof, and the post out in the open where he'd spent the night tethered in atrocious weather after Sarayah had lost control.

'It is hard to believe these people have to make this journey twice a year,' Teyla breathed. 'The physical effort involved is quite astonishing.'

'Maybe they see it as part of their penance,' Rodney offered. 'The equivalent of self-flagellation.'

Sheppard peered back at him, noticing the look of regret that crossed his face at the mention of whipping of any kind, but let it slide. McKay would return to his bombastic self pretty soon, so it was best to ignore this uncharacteristic bout of self-consciousness.

Turning the craft, Sheppard headed south at speed, covering hundreds of miles, passing over the truck and the spot where they had left what had remained of Sarayah for the wildlife to devour. Sarayah had been right; it would have taken Teyla and Ronon weeks to cover the distance from the stage point they worked out they'd been left at.

'Hey, look, that's where you were gonna kill me,' the Satedan quipped, batting Sheppard's shoulder as he pointed to the barn.

'Yeah...sorry about that,' Sheppard replied, thinking that was the end of the matter. But apparently his Satedan friend was in a loquacious mood.

'No need to apologise. I'd have done the same thing.'

Throwing him a disgusted look, Sheppard huffed, 'Thanks. That's reassuring.'

'You know what I mean.'

He returned his eyes to the front, swallowing a lump of emotion down with difficulty. 'Yeah, I know.'

'I have thought of that moment often...of the cruelty of asking you to make such a decision,' Teyla said quietly, a slight crack in her tone.

This was all getting a little too heavy for Sheppard. He felt the need to lighten the atmosphere. 'You know, I'd kill you too if the situation ever called for it, Teyla. I don't want you thinking that was favouritism.'

She laughed, which made him feel better. 'Thank you, John. As you said, that is very reassuring.'

'So Ronon,' he added. 'Just out of interest, out of me and McKay, who would you kill if you were in the same situation?'

'McKay,' Ronon said without missing a heartbeat.

'Hey...you could have at least thought about it!' McKay squeaked.

'Better to die at the hand of a friend than a merciless enemy,' the Satedan told him, and Sheppard knew the comment was meant to ease his conscience.

Well, just so you know, if we're ever in that position again, you have my permission to kill him,' Sheppard added, smirking as McKay blustered behind him.

A few seconds passed before he saw their smiles. 'Oh, I see, it's the warriors ganging up on the geek as usual. Ha, ha! Very funny!'

But Sheppard felt this was a good time to make a more serious point, too. 'Really, though. If it ever comes to that again in the future, and someone asks one of you to make that choice, I want you guys to know I'm cool with it if you chose me. I would completely understand.'

'Same here,' Ronon growled.

With Teyla soon to be a mother, it was pretty much accepted that she wouldn't make the same offer, but John looked back over at his shoulder at McKay, seeing the defiant jut of his chin. 'Hey, don't expect me to say the same thing. I'm irreplaceable.'

'Ain't that the truth,' Sheppard smirked, setting their course back to the village.

When they landed beside another jumper in the square near the well, many of the villagers ran out to greet them, including Maritza. She pushed forward through the others gathered there to speak to the visitors directly.

'Colonel Sheppard, it is good to see you and your friends looking well again. We have all been very concerned for you.'

He gave her his best smile, looking back at his team. 'Well, as you can see, we're all fit and ready to help where we can...except Teyla, of course.'

'I am sure there will be some small duties I can help with,' she insisted, but Sheppard was having none of it.

'No way. You're staying right where you are and heading back with Lorne's team then minute he gets here.'

She looked disappointed, but nodded her agreement. He hadn't even wanted her to come back to Guedeseo, but she'd been adamant that she wanted see how the villagers were for herself. So, he'd agreed that she could attend, but would return with Lorne, whose team had been helping out on an eight-hour stint they were about to relieve them of.

'I wanted to thank you and Dr McKay for the help you gave us. You saved many lives the day Sarayah decided to poison us, Colonel Sheppard, and deactivating the anomaly means I can now return home to my children, Dr McKay. I can never thank either of you enough.'

She stepped forward, looking like she was about to hug Sheppard until he side stepped, leaving McKay exposed. 'It's really him you should be thanking, then.'

Rodney's eyes bulged as she enveloped him in her arms and squeezed him tight. 'Er...you're welcome,' he wheezed, patting her tentatively on the back.

'So, you're going home?' Sheppard asked as they parted.

'Yes. I have remained here to help with the preparations for migration, but I shall be returning to my home world of Prydun in just a few days?'

'You sure you'll be welcome?'

She shrugged, a little of the joy she obviously felt at the thought slipping away, 'I cannot be certain, but I am hopeful. I came to Guedeseo and the Divine One saw fit to spare me for over a year. I think that should be proof enough of my innocence now the Stargate will allow me to travel home.'

Sheppard instantly shot a warning look Rodney's way, anticipating his itch to tell her the Devine One had never judged anyone. If that belief helped her have the courage to go back to her family, then she could continue to cling to it.

'Maybe I could come through with you, you know, pave the way and give you some moral support,' he offered.

'That is most kind...thank you. We were truly blessed the day you came to Guedeseo...all of you.'

Her face coloured up and she scurried away to get back to her duties.

'Hmmm, that'll be another member of the John Sheppard fan club, then,' he heard McKay huff, only to receive a thump in the shoulder from Ronon.

Sheppard again let it go without comment. Rodney had been a long time sufferer of foot-in-mouth disease, and the fact he wasn't choosing his words so carefully these days was actually quite refreshing.

Lorne arrived back at the village, he and his men looking grubby, hot and fatigued. 'Ready to head back, Major?' Sheppard asked.

'Yes, Sir. There's a hot shower with my name on it just calling to me,' he grinned, breathing hard. It seemed the villagers had been making full use of the Atlantis personnel. He caught the slightly green tinge in Rodney's cheeks, the same one he always got when physical activity was involved and almost felt sorry for him...almost.

'In that case, I'll hand care of this young lady over to you,' he announced with an elaborate gesture towards Teyla.

Lorne gave her a warm smile. 'My pleasure. Shall we?' and they headed away, back to the jumper they'd parked in the village on arrival.

'Colonel Sheppard, it is good to see you once again,' a familiarly gruff voice called as the jumper took off over the tree line.

It was Frah Mussa, looking just as robust as he had before the poisoning. 'Ah, Frah Mussa. I heard you were still kicking around,' the colonel grinned, accepting the offered hand and giving it a firm shake. 'Dr Keller called it a miraculous recovery.'

'Yes...thanks to you, I understand. If you had not helped when Sarayah struck, many more of us would have perished that day.'

'Although, if I hadn't been here, it might not have happened anyway,' Sheppard pointed out.

The older man looked him right in the eye, suddenly solemn. 'You must not carry the weight of responsibility for the actions of others, Colonel. If you do, you will always be burdened.'

True as he knew those words to be, the colonel doubted it was that easy to change the habit of a lifetime.

'Would you walk with me a while?' the Frah asked, raising his arm as if to wrap it around his shoulders, but never quite making contact.

'Sure,' Sheppard agreed. 'You two make yourselves useful.'

He walked with the Frah to the edge of the square away from the others, Rodney's moans gradually fading as he got further away from him.

'Colonel Carter explained to me about what happened with the Divine One...that you were able to summon it to rid us of that devious woman.'

Sheppard felt awkward about the way the question was loaded, and rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. 'Well, you see, the Divine One wasn't quite what you guys thought it was. It was an experiment gone wrong –'

The Frah stopped him. 'This has all been explained to me, Colonel, and I understand why your people would see it that way, but one man's science is another man's god. Who is to say which of us is right?'

In truth, Sheppard supposed there would never be any way of proving what had gone on, one way or another. Frah Mussa was right; the same argument raged back on Earth. What some would explain as progress, others would describe as God's will. He figured it was an issue that would never fully be resolved.

'Look, all I know is I have a special gene that made me able to manipulate that thing when I needed to –'

'Yes...you were chosen to be a conduit for the Divine One's justice.'

'I think the Divine One was more than capable of meting out justice without me.'

'Evidently, he thought not.' They stopped now a great enough distance from the others no to be overheard. 'What will become of Frah Lisso?' Mussa asked, gazing over at the work going on in the village square.

Sheppard shrugged, not really certain himself yet. 'Not sure. We're evaluating him back at Atlantis, but if he's deemed not to be a threat to anyone else, we may release him back to you.'

Mussa nodded, seemingly pleased by that thought. 'I am sorry he hurt Colonel Carter, but his act was one of pure desperation. He is afraid of what might happen now our planet is not secure.'

'I know. I do understand, but we can't condone what he did.'

'And neither do I,' the Frah assured him. Mussa looked at him now, his eyes roaming across his face so intently Sheppard found it impossible to maintain eye contact. 'You still look troubled, Colonel Sheppard. It seems you have not found the peace of mind I had hoped you would achieve with that woman out of your life.'

'I'm fine,' Sheppard assured him, 'Just busy, that's all.'

'I find that often what I think is bothering me, is not always the root cause of my consternation,' the Frah told him, not fazed by his poor excuse. 'Perhaps you need to examine your life and recognise what it is that still weighs on your soul so heavily. Solve that problem, and your burden will be lifted.'

Sheppard didn't have to delve too deep to find his real issues; Sarayah had done that for him, dragging painful memories best left forgotten back to the surface of his mind. But maybe Mussa had a point. Perhaps if he dealt with that long-term pain in the best way he could, no one would be able to find it and use it against him again.

There was a conversation with his father that was long overdue...maybe he should make time to have that talk, then perhaps the last, tenuous grip Sarayah still had on him would finally be broken.

oooOOOooo

A week later, John was heading back to his room with Ronon after breakfast, trying to take him seriously as the Satedan complained about the DVD one of the crew had loaned him.

'I watched it last night. There was hardly any fighting,' the Satedan grumbled, trudging along beside him.

'That's 'cause it's not about fighting,' he explained, as they rounded the last corner to his corridor.

'Then why's it called "Blades of Glory"?'

'Cause it's about ... _skate_ blades,' he clarified, realising how lame the concept sounded as he said it.

Ronon hesitated, apparently unimpressed. 'And this is a real sport? Men and women dancing around on ice?'

'Unfortunately,' Sheppard replied, sympathising with his disappointment.

'Your planet's weird.'

'Mmm, you can say _that_ again.'

They reached the door to his quarters and Sheppard swiped his hand over control panel, the door immediately responding to his request for it to open.

'Colonel.'

Sheppard turned to find Sam approaching, her expression uncomfortably similar to the one she'd worn when telling him about Sarayah's escape from Medulsa. That didn't bode well.

'I was just coming to see you. Do you have a minute?'

The pitch in her voice also held that same reticence; what she had to say was not going to be good. 'Yeah, sure,' he replied, glancing at Ronon.

Carter flicked an anxious look at Ronon, too, as if momentarily considering asking him to leave, then deciding against it. 'I received a message from Stargate Command. I'm afraid I have some bad news.'

Sheppard get a sinking feeling. Life had just about got back to normal now; what the hell was she about to drop on him. He prepared himself for the worst. 'Okay.'

'Your father suffered a heart attack last night.'

Of all the words he had expected her to say, those were the last. His father, the great Patrick Sheppard had always seemed so strong...so invincible. How could he be sick?

A beat passed before she added, 'I'm sorry, John, but he passed away.'

The words battered their way in past his refusal to believe, his breathing suddenly difficult. How could it be? He'd thought his father would be around forever, always disappointed, always disapproving. But now he was gone. And he'd never had the chance to set the record straight...to finally win his father's approval.

Carter and Ronon just looked at him, neither of them knowing what to say. He helped them out, giving them a reason to leave.

'I'd like to be alone for a while...to get my head around this,' he said, his voice barely audible as it forced its way out of his constricting throat.

They both nodded, looking toward each other and then walking away together. He slipped into his room, letting the door close behind him before leaning back against it for support.

Patrick Sheppard...gone. And with him went any hope of reconciliation. It had always been his intention to have 'that talk' with his father, but it had never been the right time. Now it never would be. It seemed he was destined to always carry the burden of their fight, and the sense of responsibility for the deaths of those he cared about. That option had now been closed to him; he had to find another way to resolve the traumas Senator Laurel and Sarayah had dealt him. Hopefully, time would be the great healer everyone reckoned it to be...for now, he would concentrate on what he could do – bury his father, and maybe with him lay that part of his troubled past to rest.

**The End**

**A/N: Awwww, there you go. It's all over and back to canon. Thanks to everyone who stuck with it. And thanks for all the support while I've been working on it. A special thanks again to Sterenyk Strey for her beta. It was really useful to have someone to bounce ideas off for the final edits! **


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